Let Go
by OliverKittyKat
Summary: When Dumbledore told Harry the prophecy, why did it sound as if it were incomplete? That's because it was... A new girl is transferred to Hogwart's and unknowingly brings with her the rest of the prophecy...
1. Foreword

FOREWORD  
  
Hi there. Like you, I have fallen into the world of Harry Potter and discovered that land of fan fics. This is my first attempt at anything fan fic, but hopefully it will turn out okay.  
  
Keep in mind that, although I have the main plot written out, this is still a writing in progress, so please don't get upset if I don't update as fast as you hope.  
  
Another thing, feedback from my readers is most welcome and sometimes very helpful. So please, after you are done reading, review with praise, questions, or constructive criticism! It's really appreciated!  
  
I won't put a disclaimer on every single one of my chapters, so I'm just going to say it here and now.  
  
This is an original Harry Potter fan fic. Anything, if not all, things, places, or characters associated with Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies.  
  
So ha! All ORIGINAL characters belong to me!  
  
Okay, onto the good stuff.  
  
This story is going to be a bit out of it, I guess you can say. Most of it will follow the actual plot of Harry Potter, with the exception of a few things. Like for instance, Sirius will not be killed by a Death Eater, but by someone else. (To find out who it is, you will just have to read the story, won't you *wink*)  
  
Harry will also be quite the popular guy with the ladies, if you know what I mean. (Just not to that extreme.)  
  
The main characters will be Harry, of course, and an original by the name of Sheila. Hermione and Ron will be going out and the story does take place in the 6th year, so beware of Order of the Phoenix spoilers!  
  
Well, I better shut up or else I'll give away my whole story!  
  
Hopefully you will enjoy it. I've had this story in mind for quite some time.  
  
And don't forget to review!   
  
Thank you! 


	2. 50 Years Ago Plus 4

Let Go  
  
Chapter One:  
  
50 YEARS AGO PLUS 4  
  
A small smirk played across Victoria Williams' features as she cautiously made her way through the vast kitchen into the dining room, knife in hand. She stood in front of her birthday cake, eyes closed, her thin lips moving in a silent wish. She finished saying what she wanted and drew in a deep breath, but before she could blow out the candles, a resounding *POP* echoed throughout the room and a young brunette of about 16 Apparated beside her.  
  
He gave her a light peck on the cheek before stealing the knife from her hand and cutting a slice out of the cake. "Not celebrating without me, are you?" He asked, her look of surprise and bemusement causing a grin to spread across his face.  
  
"Darling, why the funny expression?" He chuckled. "Cake?"  
  
Victoria pushed away the offered plate and turned away from him. "Are you sure?" He stepped in front of her, wafting the cake piece under her nose. "It's chocolate... Your favorite..."  
  
She sighed. "No, thank you..."  
  
He frowned, setting the plate on the table, and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Is something wrong? Anything I can do to help?"  
  
"No, you've done enough." She mumbled.  
  
"Then what ever is the matter?"  
  
  
  
She shook her head. "Nothing. Let's just get down to business." She paused. "Did you do it?"  
  
A look of triumph fluttered across his face and he nodded. "So then your grandparents, they are, I assume, dead?" She asked.  
  
He nodded again, the grin he displayed growing bigger. "And your father?"  
  
"No longer in the land of the living."  
  
She smiled. "Excellent. All is going according to plan."   
  
He shook his head in mirth. "Look at you. So serious." He mocked. "Just enjoy the moment."  
  
She turned and picked up a piece of cake. "I'd enjoy it more if you quit teasing me." She said between bites.  
  
He stuck out his tongue, to which she replied with her middle finger. He feigned surprise, then smirked. "I always knew you were a wild one." He stepped towards her, placing his hands atop her hips. "All you have to do is tell me when and where."  
  
She quirked an eyebrow, setting down her plate, her green eyes full of mischief and lust. "Well, in that case-"  
  
He put up a hand to silence her and breathed deeply in. "What is that alluring odor?" He leaned towards her, the tip of his nose brushing her neck. "Are you wearing a new perfume?"  
  
Victoria furrowed her brows in confusion. "No. Why?"  
  
He leaned closer still, his lips lingering above her exposed collar bone. "It smells divine... whatever it is." His tongue flickered out, lightly making a path of saliva from her collar bone to her ear lobe. They both let out synchronized moans. "Oh, the blood of an innocent always tasted sweet..." He grinned against her ear. "But on you, dear, it's positively erotic..."  
  
She ran her hands down the length of his back, passed his hips, and gave his rear a timid squeeze. "Yes, well, I do try..."  
  
He ran his fingers up her arm, his feather soft touch causing a small giggle to escape her. "And did you succeed?"  
  
She stepped away from him, grinning. "Turn around and see for yourself."  
  
He did and chortled at the sight of her dead parents. Their eyes were still open, the lifeless orbs staring helplessly at the ceiling. Their mouths were frozen in silent screams.  
  
"Victoria, can I ask you something?" He said, turning back to her.  
  
"Sure. Anything."  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
"Of course not, darling." She said without hesitation. "Why?"  
  
He took her hand in his. "Good girl. You shouldn't." He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a small, black box. "Here. Happy Birthday."  
  
She took the box and gave it a slight shake. It gave a tiny tinkle, like a bell. "What is it?"  
  
"Open it, silly, and find out." So she did, letting out a gasp as she pulled out the long chain. On the end of it hung a miniature snake, its ruby eyes glinting maliciously in the candlelight. The pendant itself was silver, the snake's tail inside its mouth, making a ring.   
  
"It's called an ouroboros. The circle the snake forms with its tail in its mouth symbolizes life, death, and rebirth..."  
  
"I don't know what to say..."  
  
"Say you love it and that you'll be mine forever." He took the necklace from her hand, ushering her to lean forward so he could place it around her neck.  
  
"I- I love it." She kissed him then, the pendant momentarily forgotten between her breasts. "And I shall be yours forever."  
  
  
  
He smiled. "And I yours, Victoria Williams."  
  
She frowned slightly and looked up at him. "You promise?" She whispered.  
  
"Thomas Marvolo Riddle is a man of his word." He whispered back, then kissed her again.   
  
The faint *POP* announced their departure as they Disapparated, the flickering birthday candles casting eerie shadows across the faces of her murdered parents.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry Potter awoke with a start, cold sweat dripping down his face, making his usually messy hair cling to his head. His lightning bolt-shaped scar was burning above his right eye. He reached up and gingerly touched it, wincing as a brief shock of pain ran across his head.  
  
"What the hell was that?"  
  
He fumbled for his glasses on the old, worn desk beside his bed and put them on. Sitting up, he peered around his moonlit room, his eyes falling upon his owl's cage.  
  
"Well, nothing seems out of place."  
  
Hedwig rustled her feathers sleepily and placed her head back under her wing. Harry smiled at the snow-white bird, the memory of how he got her wavering to the surface of his mind. His smile, however, was soon replaced with a sneer when he remembered where he was.  
  
"The Dursleys'... 'nuff said..."  
  
Albeit, they weren't as bad as they used to be, but they still treated him as if he were diseased. He shrugged his sore shoulders and fell back on the bed. He automatically sought out the tense muscle in his arm and set to work on it. It immediately relaxed and he grinned.  
  
"Dudley may have his little boxing thing, but it's nothing compared to good ol' Quidditch..."  
  
He fell silent and stared at the blank ceiling for what seemed like forever. He was obviously confused, bits of the dream playing on repeat in his head. Was this just a regular dream or did it mean something else? Could this be a vision from the past or maybe a premonition? Or worse, could this be another one of Voldemort's twisted plans?  
  
Harry sighed, removing his glasses. He rubbed his eyes, in an effort to relieve himself of the dull throbbing above his right eye.  
  
"Ugh, what does it mean?!" He shifted restlessly underneath the blankets, the mattress creaking beneath his weight. "Damn it! I knew I should've practiced Occlumency more! Dumbledore better know what the hell he's doing!"  
  
"HARRY POTTER!" Harry flinched at the volume of his Uncle's voice. "IT'S 2 O'CLOCK IN THE BLOODY MORNING! GET TO SLEEP!"  
  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon! Sorry!" Harry yelled back.  
  
"SHUT UP! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! GO TO SLEEP, I SAY!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and pulled the scratchy blanket up to his chin. For the sake of his, well, sanity, he just had to keep reminding himself "One more month... Just one more month...".  
  
  
  
With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
A/N: I hope you liked it! Please review! 


	3. The Initial Meeting

 LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 2:  
  
THE INITIAL MEETING  
  
Albus Dumbledore scooted a thick, yellow envelope across the table. The young boy picked it up, opened it, and pulled out a picture of a girl.  
  
"This?" The boy held up the picture. "This is my new client?"  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
"She looks exactly like her mother..."  
  
"Her name is-"  
  
The boy sighed. "Look, I don't really care what her name is. I am an Auror and all I need to know is how am I supposed to protect her."  
  
Dumbledore smirked. "Very well." He proceeded to tell the boy the details of the case and the special circumstances to which he would be working under. The more and more he spoke, the wider the boy's eyes got.  
  
"So, basically I just have to make sure she doesn't go and get herself killed, right?" The boy asked as soon as Dumbledore was finished.  
  
"She is very capable of keeping herself alive, but extra protection is always a must in situations like these."  
  
The boy nodded. "Does Harry know about the-?"  
  
"Yes, young Mr. Potter is fully aware of what is to take place in order for the defeat of Voldemort to happen. He will do his part in keeping with the Prophecy."  
  
"So, how will I protect her? I can't bloody well become her friend, that would be a little suspicious."  
  
"Ah, you may not be her friend, but associating with her is not entirely out of the question. She is, after all, family. As for the protecting, just remember that you must accompany her where ever she goes without being noticed."  
  
The boy groaned. "You mean-?"  
  
"That's exactly what I mean."  
  
"Great... From Auror to house pet..."  
  
"The suffering will pay off in due time. Now, I do have other business to attend to so if you'll excuse me..."  
  
The boy shook his hand and took his leave.  
  
"I just hope they don't end up like Lily and James..." Albus shrugged, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Sebastian, let go!" Sheila pulled (with much effort) her black tie away from the grips of her frisky cat's mouth and looked at the scarlet train looming ahead. She sighed and looked down at the cat standing beside her.   
  
"So this is it, 'ay Sebastian?" The cat, who was staring hungrily at her tie, blinked and cocked its head to one side.   
  
"Meow."   
  
She nodded. "I agree. 'Twas a bitter end for a new beginning."   
  
"Meow."  
  
She sighed again and, grabbing the handle for balance, stepped onto the platform leading into one of the train's many cars. "Some comfort you are." She said, walking towards an empty compartment. Sebastian, the creature with a one-word vocabulary, following close behind.  
  
The Hogwart's Express let out a shrill whistle as the huge station clock struck 11:00. Sheila looked, absentmindedly, out the window, her chin resting on her palm. The train whistled again, signaling the beginning of the journey, before lurching forward. She whispered a silent prayer, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. As the train began to pick up speed, she saw a flash of black and red hair streak passed her window as two boys, exhausted and breathless, ran by, school robes flowing behind them. She smiled, laughing at their inability to be punctual. Taking in a deep, yet relaxing, breath, she tore her eyes away from the window and peered around the empty compartment.  
  
  
  
She saw Sebastian curled up in the corner of her seat, sleeping and occasionally letting out a content purr. "Your no fun." She said, patting the blonde tabby cat lightly on its sleeping head, before letting her hand fall beneath her seat. She pulled her carry-on out and set it on her lap. Unhooking the clasps, she peered in and pulled out a silver photo frame.   
  
It was a picture of her and her father standing outside the gates of the Audubon Zoo. *'My 9th birthday.'* She smiled, although her eyes were full of grief and anger. Blinking back her oncoming tears, she carefully tucked the frame back under her neatly folded clothes.  
  
Deciding that there was nothing better to do on this school bound train, she shuffled through some more clothes and pulled out her favorite book of the moment, Hogwart's, A History. After a few tedious, mind you, silent, moments later, she grew weary of the said book and her gaze wandered over to the vast landscapes swiftly passing by outside her window. She sighed, turning back to her book.   
  
Sheila could hear brief scuffling in the hallway and a boy calling out "Hermione!", but before she could even begin to contemplate on who this "Hermione" was, her compartment door swung open.  
  
  
  
"I'm terribly sorry. I thought this compartment was empty." Said a voice which clearly belonged to a boy.  
  
Sheila peered over the top of her book, her chocolate brown eyes surveying the intruders. There were 2 boys and a girl, all looked about her age. The front boy, which she assumed was the one who had spoken, had messy jet black hair, green shining eyes, and fairly tanned skin. The other boy, who was standing next to the girl, had flaming red hair and a sprinkle of freckles across his face. He was a good six inches taller than the other two. The said girl looked about Sheila's height, her bushy, curly hair framing her round face, her hazel eyes staring intently at Sheila.   
  
The boy with the black hair cleared his throat. "Er, we'll just find another compartment."  
  
Sheila sighed. "Don't even bother. All of them are full, I'm sure." She closed the book, setting it beside the sleeping Sebastian, and gave them a tiny smile. "You three are welcome to sit in here, if you'd like."  
  
The trio looked at her, then each other. The front boy shrugged. "Alright. Thanks."  
  
Sheila shrugged back. "No problem."  
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
Sheila chuckled. "What's with the interrogation? Yes, I'm sure."  
  
The teenagers made their way into the tiny room, setting their carry-ons in the overhead compartments. The two boys took the seat across from her, the girl sat next to Sheila. Sebastian let out a howl of pain as the girl accidentally sat on him, then giving her what looked like a disapproving look, ran out of the compartment, tail in the air.  
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't meant to!" The girl looked frantic.  
  
"It's okay. I always thought Sebastian was a bit of a drama queen, er, cat."  
  
The girl picked up the book Sheila was reading earlier and grinned. "Hogwart's, A History." She handed the book to Sheila. "My favorite."   
  
Sheila smiled. "Mine too." She set the book on top of her luggage. "My name's Sheila, by the way." She held out her hand.   
  
The girl took her hand and shook it. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger."  
  
A silent interval passed between the two. Sheila resorted back to looking out the window. She could see the sun slowly setting in the distance, the pale, dying sunlight temporarily blinding her. The compartment door slid open again and she heard someone distinctly mumble "Oh shit."  
  
Sheila turned towards the door and saw a tall boy with shining blonde hair standing there. He was casually leaning against the doorframe, a sneer on his face.  
  
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Potty, Weasel and Know-It-All." He said.  
  
"Fuck off, Malfoy." The red-headed boy said. He slowly stood, wand already in hand, his other hand clenching and unclenching in a fist.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Weasley. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"  
  
"At least he has a mother." The boy with the black hair was now standing, leering at the blonde.  
  
"Look who's talking, Potter. Besides, I don't believe I was speaking to you. Meddlesome fool." He now had his wand out and ready. "Just like your mudblood bitch of a mother. Isn't that what got her killed in the first place?"  
  
Before the first punch and/or curse could be thrown, Sheila stood and walked casually to the where the blonde was standing.  
  
"Hello Draco." She crossed her arms over her chest.   
  
The boy gave her a once over, then lowered his eyes to the ground. "Hey Sheila..."  
  
"Unless you want You-Know-Who to hear about this little episode, I suggest you return to your OWN compartment IMMEDIATELY."  
  
Draco sneered at her. "Who are you to tell me what to do?!"   
  
Sheila raised her hand, Draco flinched, thinking she would hit him. Sheila smirked, her fingers set in a ready to snap position. "Don't make me do it..."   
  
Draco hesitated, but thought against whatever curse he was thinking of using against her. "Whatever..." Without even a backward glance at the others, he stalked away, disappearing into a nearby compartment.  
  
"You-Know-Who? What's that all about?" The redhead looked down at her, suspicion flashing in his eyes.  
  
Sheila sighed and resided back to her seat. "Nothing that concerns you, dear boy."  
  
"What do you mean? Of course, it does." He was standing in front of her again and quite frankly, was starting to get on Sheila's nerves. "Did you mean You-Know-Who as in V-Vol- well, You-Know-Who?!"  
  
"Who?" She asked innocently, although she knew exactly who he was talking about.  
  
"Lord Voldemort." The boy with black hair spoke up. "Your not working for him are you?" He pointed his wand in her direction.  
  
"Put that thing away." He made no move to do so. "Potter, is it? As in the famous Harry Potter?" He nodded. "Of course it is." She sighed. "No, not You-Know-Who as in Lord Voldemort. You-Know-Who as in someone more powerful than that prick and also You-Know-Who as in none of your business. That clarification enough for you?"  
  
The two boys looked at each other, but still didn't put away their wands. "No. You looked kind of buddy-buddy with Malfoy a few minutes ago and everybody knows he's a shoo-in for the next Death Eater."  
  
"Buddy-buddy? Please... Look, if I was working for Voldemort, then I would've hexed your precious Hermione into oblivion already." She nodded in Hermione's direction, who was looking at her curiously.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"YOU BOYS BETTER GET A MOVE ON OR YOUR GOING TO MISS THE TRAIN!"   
  
Ronald Weasley gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before running through Platform 9 and 3/4. Harry Potter stayed behind and gave Mrs. Weasley a brief hug.  
  
"Take care of yourself, dearie. And remember, have fun!"  
  
Harry smiled, running towards the platform, and called out behind him. "I will! Don't worry!"  
  
~*~*~  
  
They had looked in every compartment, all of which were full, but still saw no sign of their friend, Hermione Granger.  
  
"You boys wouldn't be looking for me, would you?"  
  
The two boys turned and saw a bushy-haired girl standing behind them, a smile on her face.  
  
"Hermione!" They ran and gave her hug, almost knocking her over.  
  
"How was your summer, Ron? Harry, from what I understand, you got to spend some of it at The Burrow?" She asked, straightening her dilapidated robes.  
  
"Let's find a compartment first, okay? Then, I'll tell you all about it and even throw in the number of times Ron fell off his broom trying to practice his Quidditch moves."  
  
"Hey!" Ron yelled. "Those were intentional falls. It's all part of my new maneuvers and such."   
  
Harry laughed as he slid open a nearby compartment door. It was empty except for one person, who's face was currently hiding behind a copy of Hogwart's, A History. A blonde cat, which he assumed was hers, was napping nearby. He quickly apologized, ready to slide the door shut, when she called out to them. He could see brown eyes peering over the book.   
  
Eyes that looked very familiar... His mind flashed back to the picture. *'That must be her...'*  
  
He told her that they'd just find another compartment, but she lowered the book, telling them all the other ones were probably full. She offered them hers and they all accepted with a shrug.  
  
Harry slid into a seat across from her, Ron next to him. She finished chatting with Hermione and was currently looking out the window. He could tell that she was deep in thought so he took this opportunity to look her over.   
  
Her raven-colored hair was long, midway down her back he'd say, and the last few inches of them curled naturally. He could see the sunlight reflecting off her blood red highlights. Her eyes were like chocolate. She was, indeed, very pretty. The thing that he liked the most, however, were her lips. Small, yet pouty, and an interesting shade of pink. They stood out against her lightly tanned skin, like a red rose in the snow.  
  
Harry heard the compartment door open then, and upon seeing who it was let out an "Oh shit."   
  
It was Draco Malfoy, the little git. Well, a few words were thrown around, but before anyone could really do anything, the girl stepped in front of them. She said something about You-Know-Who and Malfoy took his leave.  
  
Naturally, Ron and Harry were quickly on her, asking questions about the incident. She went about it nonchalantly, answering with the air of a snobby person. Then, she said something quite unexpected.  
  
  
  
"Buddy-buddy? Please... Look, if I was working for Voldemort, then I would've hexed your precious Hermione into oblivion already." She nodded in Hermione's direction, who was looking at her curiously.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked.  
  
  
  
"Your a muggleborn, are you not?"   
  
Hermione started, surprised. "How'd you know?"  
  
Sheila smiled. "Don't worry. It's not like I can sniff them out or anything." She shrugged. "You just give off this kind of aura."  
  
Hermione smiled wearily. "Oh. Okay."  
  
Sheila turned to Harry and Ron. "I'm Sheila, by the way. Sheila Williams."  
  
"Ronald Weasley." Said the red head.  
  
"And you already know who I am." Said Harry.  
  
"Is this your first year at Hogwart's, Sheila?" Hermione asked.   
  
  
  
Sheila nodded. "I had to transfer after my school back in America was shut down."   
  
"Oh. Your American?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"That's odd."   
  
"What is?"   
  
  
  
"Nothing. It's just," She paused. "you have a British accent."   
  
Sheila smiled. "Oh, that's only because I was born here in England, Surrey actually, but with my school shutting down back in the U.S. and my dad dying only a couple of months ago, I had nowhere else to go."   
  
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."   
  
Sheila shook her head. "Don't be. It could always be a lot worse."   
  
  
  
"Don't I know it." Harry said and Sheila gave him a small smile.  
  
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" An old witch stood in the hallway, trolley cart loaded with food in front of her. Sebastian finally returned, squeezing passed her, followed closely by the ginger-colored Crookshanks.  
  
The four teenagers each bought Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pastries, with the exception of Sheila who also bought a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.  
  
"What are these?" Sheila asked, pulling out a jelly bean and looking at it, puzzled. She held it out to Sebastian, who licked his lips enthusiastically.  
  
Hermione, Ron, and Harry looked at each and grinned.  
  
"Try it. They're really good. I eat them all the time." Ron said, still grinning.  
  
"Well here then. You eat one first and if you don't die, then I'll try it." Sheila handed the bean to Ron, who's grin was slowly fading. Harry and Hermione tried hard to stifle their giggles as Ron glared at them, then at the bean in his hand.  
  
"Okay. Here goes nothing." He popped the candy in his mouth and immediately spit it out. "Ew, sardines!"  
  
Sheila, Harry, and Hermione burst out laughing and soon after, Ron joined in.  
  
~*~*~  
  
The rest of the train ride was spent in relaxation. Sheila and her three newly found friends sat, surrounded by candy wrappers and empty Bertie Bott's boxes, chatting and laughing about school, life, or whatever came up.  
  
"So, you mean to tell me Moody turned him into a ferret and started bouncing him up and down the hallway?!" Sheila asked.   
  
The trio, who were on the floor clutching their stomachs, nodded, their face screwed up in laughter. Sheila soon joined them on the floor, their giggles echoing in the hollow compartment. "I would've given anything to see that!" Sheila exclaimed. Hermione wiped away a tear and chuckled, halfheartedly.   
  
"You must really dislike Malfoy? Do you guys have a history or something?" Ron asked, brushing his hair from his forehead.   
  
Sheila shrugged, biting off a Chocolate Frog's head. "You could say that." She swallowed before opening her mouth again. "Hey guys, I'm really sorry if I came off as being a little bitchy earlier. It's just that with what's going on and everything, you kind of have to be on your toes."  
  
"Why's that?" Harry asked.  
  
Sheila smirked. "One word: Slytherins." She looked at the others, and they all burst into a fit of laughter again.  
  
A couple of minutes later, they heard the brakes squeal beneath them as the train started to slow down. Hermione got up from her spot on the cluttered floor and looked out the window. "We're here."   
  
They gathered their things quickly, so they wouldn't get caught up in the mad rush of people, and exited the compartment.   
  
Sheila stepped off the train, the wind whipping back her long, raven colored hair, and breathed in, her eyes twinkling with anticipation as she took in the sight before her. It was of a huge stone castle surrounded by a clear lake. The stars from above made the picture perfect image shimmer and glisten.   
  
  
  
"It's beautiful." Sheila whispered.   
  
"It is, isn't it?" Harry whispered in her ear. She jumped, unaware of his presence. "I can think of a few things that are even more beautiful... " His voice trailed off and she saw him disappear down the hill as he walked towards the horseless carriages.   
  
*'Was he just flirting with me?'* Her face reddened, whether from the wind or from blushing, she didn't care. She was finally here.   
  
Hermione stepped down beside her, puffing as she dragged her carry-on down the train's stairs. She held onto to Sheila's shoulder for support as she caught her breath.  
  
"Whew! Those steps are a pain in the ass!" She looked at Sheila, who was still intrigued by the castle. "Well, I guess as a 6th year Prefect, I should be the first to welcome you." She let go of Sheila's shoulder and took a few steps in front of her. She held out her arms, opening them in a dramatic sort of sweep and looked at Sheila.  
  
"Welcome to Hogwart's, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
Sheila smiled, bowing. "Thank you." She held out her arm. "Shall we?" They both giggled, Hermione linking her arm through Sheila's, and made their way down the hill to the horseless carriages, Sebastian and Crookshanks walking idly behind them.  
  
A/N: Sorry if were a bit long. Did you like it? I hope so! Why does Harry seem so flirtatious after he suspected her of being one of Lord Voldemort's associates? Is it the hormones raging or something a bit more? Stay tuned and find out! Review please! 


	4. When Fate Gives A Little

LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 3:  
  
WHEN FATE GIVES A LITTLE  
  
Sheila and the Trio walked slowly up the Entrance Hall's steps, about 700 people following close behind. Sheila would stop every so often to admire the "structure" (as she put it) of the castle.  
  
"It's very... antique... classic, even..."  
  
"If you think that Flying Buttress is great, you should see the arches in the library!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"The library?! Oh, I love books! Where is it?" Sheila asked.  
  
"Really?!" Hermione looked at her in disbelief as Sheila nodded. "This is great! Now I have somebody to study with. Someone who appreciates books as much as I do!" Hermione lowered her voice and leaned towards Sheila. "Unlike these two butt holes over here." Sheila giggled as Hermione grabbed her hand, doing a compete 180 and heading in the opposite direction. "It's this way. Come on."  
  
"Uh-uh, I don't think so." Ron said, intercepting Sheila and Hermione.  
  
Hermione gave him a pouty look. "Why not?"  
  
Ron guffawed. "What do you mean 'Why not?'? Hermione, there is a time to study and a time to eat." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "And this, this is a time to eat."  
  
"It's always a time to eat to you, Ronald Christopher Weasley!"  
  
"Oooh, she used his whole name. That can't be good..." Harry said to Sheila, who was watching with mild amusement.  
  
"Don't start, Hermione Danielle Granger! Why are you always doing that?"  
  
"Doing WHAT exactly?"  
  
"Turning everything around so it looks like it's my fault!"  
  
"Maybe because it usually is."  
  
"NOW WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"  
  
"You know exactly what I mean! AND HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!"  
  
"Please, Hermione, please enlighten me 'cause I am really at a loss here."  
  
"Okay, fine. May 22nd."  
  
"May 22nd?"  
  
"Yes, May 22nd. What was supposed to be a, ahem, special day for us turned out to be shit because SOMEBODY couldn't perform!"  
  
"Hermione, that was one day! And that WAS NOT my fault!"  
  
"Then who's was it, Ron?"  
  
"Yours!"  
  
"Mine!"  
  
"Yeah, yours! I would've been able to perform if you hadn't've insisted on giving me a-"  
  
"Whoa! Okay, that's really too much information!" Harry stepped between the bickering couple, hands raised. "But unless you want to the whole school to hear about your failed interludes, then continue, please."  
  
Hermione and Ron glared at him, then at the some 700 people staring at them, mouths open and eyes wide. They both blushed deep pink and quickly scurried into the Great Hall.  
  
"My goodness, are they always like that?" Sheila asked Harry, taking a seat next to him.  
  
He smiled. "Nah, they're usually worse."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The Sorting Ceremony took much longer than it normally did, much to Ron's disapproval. Sheila, letting out a sigh of relief, was sorted into Gryffindor, the only 6th year student to ever do so.   
  
"May 22nd... what the hell...?" Ron mumbled while piling mashed potatoes on his plate.  
  
"That's right, darling." Hermione quirked, adding gravy to his potatoes. "All your fault..."  
  
Ron threw down his fork. "What?! Oh, that is it!"  
  
"Hey Ron, look! Fried chicken!" Harry held up a plate of chicken legs.  
  
"Oooh, chicken!"  
  
Harry shook his head, laughing. "Gets him every time..."  
  
~*~*~  
  
A soft clinking of silverware against glass rang out across the expansive hall, silencing the uproar of the enthusiastic students. Sheila looked up and saw a woman sitting at the front table, holding her goblet in one hand and a fork in the other.   
  
"Your attention, please."   
  
Hermione saw the puzzled expression on Sheila's face. "Professor McGonagall. Transfiguration and Headmistress." She whispered to Sheila, who nodded in return. A man with a long, white beard stood up and turned to Professor McGonagall.   
  
"Thank you, Minerva. Good evening." He smiled, his attention returning to the sea of young faces staring back at him. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster here at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. First off, I would like to extend a special welcome to our first years." He smiled. "I hope your stay here will be most enjoyable. As for the rest of you," Pausing, he looked around the room, his eyes bright behind his half-moon glasses. They swept the room twice before landing directly on Sheila. "it's so nice to see you again." Sheila smiled warmly at him. He clapped his hands, their eye contact breaking.  
  
"Now there are a few things I need to take care of before we can run off to bed." He licked his lips, pondering his next sentence. "First order of business. Please remember that the Forbidden Forest is off limits. Hence the name." He shook his finger, like a father who was scolding his child would. "So I better not catch any of you wandering around in there." He looked at Hermione, Ron, and Harry, his eyebrow arched. Blushing with embarrassment, they turned away from him, suddenly becoming very interested in the table's centerpiece.  
  
"Second, all of you should know by now that Professor Umbridge retired last year due to a Ministry Order of Business." He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. "So, with Professor Umbridge's retirement there came an opening, yet again, in the DADA teaching position." By this time, he had started to pace in front of the teacher's table. "Now this new teacher is not like the ones we've had in the past. Not only does she excel in medical skills, but is also the 2nd best potions master there is. The 1st being our very own Professor Snape, of course." Dumbledore cast a look at Snape, who looked back at him, his face expressionless. "However," Dumbledore continued, "those aren't the most unique qualities about her." He smiled at the students who were now listening with rapt attention. "Well, I don't want to give anything away, so I'll leave it at that."  
  
The Great Hall suddenly erupted in fervent whispers as everyone tried to guess what the new professor would be like.  
  
"Oh and by the way, students we also have an exchange student here from the Americas. Her name is Sheila Williams and I expect all of you to treat her with respect and kindness." He gestured to Sheila, who was staring at him in horror. "Miss Williams, please stand so everyone can get a good look at you." Blushing, she did as she was told and, feeling everyone's eyes burning into her, she quickly sat back down. "Well, that's all I have to say. Prefects, please escort your Houses to your common rooms." Dumbledore sighed. "Good night, everyone."  
  
"Wait, that's it?" Draco Malfoy was standing at the Slytherin table, goblet in hand. "Your not even going to tell us who this new teacher is?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "All will be revealed in due time, Mr. Malfoy. Now, everyone please go to bed, classes start tomorrow!"  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Can you believe Dumbledore? Won't even tell us who she is." Harry hastily pulled his pajama top over his head, causing his glasses to go askew.  
  
"I'm sure he's got good reason to, Harry." Hermione handed the toothpaste over to Sheila.   
  
Ron ran a brush through his red hair. "I think it's cool. Like a mystery or something." He paused. "I just hope she doesn't turn out to be another Umbridge."  
  
Harry watched Sheila through the mirror as she put toothpaste on her toothbrush. Ever since Dumbledore made his announcement, she's been awfully quiet. Her gaze went from the water running in the faucet to him. They stared at each before she turned away, blushing. He grinned, walking over to her.  
  
Harry wasn't stupid. He was, after all, a 16-year old boy. He knew that look, that move. He liked to call it the "I'm looking at you, but if you look at me, I'll feign innocence and pretend that I wasn't looking" look. He invented that look... back in 3rd year... with Cho Chang.   
  
Oh, Cho. Her and Harry had their moments. A couple of kisses in the hall when no one was looking, brushing against each other on the Quidditch pitch during a game, even smiling at each other in the Great Hall. Innocent stuff, you know? Until last year that is... when he lost his virginity to her...   
  
Although he liked to think he had more experience in the sexual department than his two best friends, it was still nothing he would like to admit to (let alone discuss with) Ron and Hermione, who have been going out since 4th year. There were those 2 girls over the summer, of course, but nothing special.  
  
"And what do you think?" Harry asked. Sheila rinsed out her mouth and smirked.  
  
"Don't even try it."   
  
Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. "Try what?"  
  
" I know that move. I invented that move. I call it the 'Yeah, I saw you turn away, blushing, so now I'm going to walk over to ya and see if I can't spit some game' move. It's SO predictable. So, don't even try it." She wiped her mouth off with a towel and turned away, grinning, leaving Harry to simply look after her, appalled.  
  
"Good night, Harry, Ron." She called out before disappearing into the Prefect bedroom, which she shared with Hermione.  
  
Hermione gave Ron a good night kiss and followed Sheila into the bedroom. "Sweet dreams you two." She closed the door behind her and they could hear the soft *CLICK* of the lock.  
  
Ron turned to Harry, grinning. Harry looked at him. "What?"  
  
"'I know that move. I invented that move.'" He mocked Sheila in a high pitched voice. "Man, you are so stuck on her."  
  
Harry shrugged him off. "I am not."  
  
"Come on, admit it. You may not know her THAT well, but you know she's not like the other girls you've dated. Or even like the other girls around here. She's different and you're intrigued by it."  
  
"Ron, read my flapping lips, I AM NOT."  
  
"Yes, yes you are. The sarcastic, yet sweet attitude she throws around has got your interest peaked, admit it." Harry let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth, but quickly covered it. "Aha, I saw that little smile." Ron exclaimed, poking him playfully in the chest. "You like her, don't you? You like the way her hair blows in the wind, the way her eyes twinkle in the light... The way her ass moves up and down when she walks..." His voice trailed off.  
  
"So... you've been checking her out as well, huh?" Harry grabbed his bathroom necessities and walked into their bedroom, laughing. "Wait 'til Hermione here's about this..."  
  
"Hey! Hey, Harry that's not fair!" Ron chased him into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry could barely sleep that night. He lay, thinking, and staring up at his bed's canopy. He had so much on his mind. The new DADA teacher, Sheila, Quidditch, new classes, Sheila, the dream he had not even a month ago, Sheila...  
  
Sheila... Harry had to admit (although not to his face) that Ron WAS right. She was different and he was VERY intrigued. She was just so... happy. And positive. For crying out loud, she was dancing and singing up and down the hallway on the way to the common rooms like she didn't have a care in the world!   
  
It was almost inspiring. She's exactly the kind of person Harry, Ron, and Hermione needed around, with Voldemort going haywire and everything. She wasn't like Cho, who was always worrying about what others thought of her or surrounded by a bunch of friends. Yeah, Sheila was very pretty but it just seemed as if she didn't put as much effort into it.  
  
Sheila was very... well for lack of a better word, different. He had known her for barely a day and Harry already deciphered that. She looked like she held so many secrets and faults on the inside and Harry was determined to figure them out.  
  
With a smile on his face, he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.  
  
~*~*~  
  
The following morning dawned with rain clouds in the sky. Sheila and the Trio dressed quickly and raced to the Great Hall, where they received their class schedules and breakfast.  
  
"First class: Defense Against the Dark Arts. That's cool. We get to see the new teacher first." Ron set his schedule next to his plate of eggs and looked at Hermione, who was reading Standard Book of Spells: Grade 6. Ron shook his head.   
  
"It's never too early to start, Ron." She said, sipping her pumpkin juice.  
  
Ron looked taken aback. "I didn't say anything."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes behind her book. Sheila leaned towards her, reading along.  
  
"Those two, I swear. Their like twins..." Harry took a bite of his grits, smirking, and looked at his own schedule.  
  
"Oh no, look. I didn't even see that." Ron frowned, pointing to their first class. "We have DADA with the Slytherins."   
  
Harry sneered. "Those fucks."  
  
Sheila peered out from behind Hermione's book, grabbing a piece of toast. "I don't see what the big deal is. Their just people, mind you, some of them are terrible people, but still people just the same." Harry looked at her with interest.  
  
"Why do you say that?" He asked.  
  
"Well, just because their parents are horrible people who have done horrible things doesn't mean that their horrible as well. Take my mother for instance. Her parents were followers of Voldemort before his first downfall and she turned out perfectly fine."  
  
Ron and Harry looked at her suspiciously. "Don't look at me like that. I told you, I do not work for You-Know-Who! I just don't think people should judge other people by what House their in or who their parents are." She gave them both a disapproving look and bit into her toast.  
  
Ron's face softened. "Don't do that. You look like Sebastian when Hermione squashed him on the train. It's creepy." Ron teased. Sheila stuck out her tongue.  
  
Hermione closed her book. "That was an accident!"  
  
Sheila, Ron, and Harry laughed, grabbing their bags, and Harry and Ron scooped up a very embarrassed Hermione to head to their first class, DADA.  
  
"Miss Williams, may I have a word?" Professor Dumbledore appeared behind them.  
  
"Sure, Professor."  
  
"This'll only take a minute. She'll catch up to you in class." Dumbledore said, turning to the Trio. They all nodded, giving Sheila small smiles, and headed down the hallway.  
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, Dumbledore turned back to Sheila. "How are you holding up, Miss Williams?"  
  
"Pretty good, Professor."  
  
"Yes, well, you've made friends with three rather extraordinary people. You are very lucky." Sheila smiled. "Now, regarding your first class-"  
  
"No worries, Professor. I have it all under control."  
  
He looked at her, an eyebrow quirked. "Are you absolutely sure? Some of these students can be quite a handful."  
  
"I assure you, I've handled a lot worse."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled. "That I am quite sure of." He sighed. "Well, just remember that if anyone causes you any trouble, send them to me straight away."  
  
"Oh, Professor... that's a bit much. I don't want people to give me weird looks because the Headmaster's giving me special treatment." Sheila paused. "I want to be treated just like everyone else. I mean just because I'm-"  
  
"That can be arranged, Miss Williams." A bell echoed in the distance. "Dear me..." He sighed. "I fear I have to give you detention on your first day."  
  
"What? Why's that?"  
  
"Well, your late for class and you did say that you wanted to be treated like everyone else." His eyes twinkled merrily upon seeing her shocked expression. "I'm only kidding, Miss Williams. Just because I'm an old man doesn't mean I don't have a sense of humor." Relief spread across Sheila's face. "Now, hurry up or you'll miss your first lesson!"  
  
"Thank you, Professor." She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and took off running down the hallway.  
  
"Oh, and Miss Williams," Sheila stopped and turned around to face him. "good luck."  
  
  
  
She gave him a smile and continued her journey to her first class.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Where is she? She's already late!" Hermione tapped her quill nervously on her desktop.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione. She's with Dumbledore. She can't get into any trouble." Harry reassured her.  
  
"I'm just anxious to see who this new teacher is!" Ron was sucking on the end of his Sugar Quill.  
  
"Me too." Harry and Hermione chorused together.  
  
Just then the classroom door opened.   
  
"Good morning, everyone." The person who had opened the door strode swiftly into the classroom. "I'm your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
Every single head in the classroom followed the person's ascent up to the big oak desk and every single person let out a surprised gasp.  
  
A/N: Oooh, a cliffhanger! Who's the new teacher? And where the hell is Sheila? Oh and when I mention Sheila being with Ron, Harry, and Hermione at the same time I'll just say 'Sheila and the Trio' so I don't have to type it all out, okay? Good! Please review! 


	5. Sans Wand Mageeck

LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 4:  
  
SANS WAND MAGEECK  
  
  
  
Sheila set her school bag atop the big oak desk and turned towards the window, watching the now falling rain.  
  
*'I feel like I'm forgetting something... Oh, yes...'* She turned back to the class. "Surprise!"  
  
They sat looking at her, mouths still agape, for a moment, then suddenly broke into fervent whispers. She didn't hear much of what was being said, but did manage to catch a few things here and there like:  
  
"Her?!"  
  
"What the hell is Dumbledore up to now?"  
  
"This is too unreal!"  
  
Sheila chuckled. *'This is going to be SO much fun.'* She thought. She held up her hands.  
  
"Okay, okay. Settle down class!" The whispering stopped and everyone turned to look at her again. In the back of the class, Ron stood up. "Do you have a question, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
"Yeah, I do. Sheila, what the hell?"  
  
Sheila smiled. "First off, I will not be addressed so informally, Mr. Weasley. I am a teacher. It is either Professor Williams or Miss Williams. Only those who are worthy get to call me by my first name, which is Sheila, in case none of you knew that. And secondly, I will not tolerate such language in my classroom." She paused. "Now, I'm pretty sure the question 'What the hell?' is flashing in all your minds right about now and all I can say to it is: Dumbledore."  
  
A girl raised her hand. "Yes, we all know Headmaster Dumbledore's a bit out of it but really, you, a teacher. How?"  
  
"That's a very good question, Miss-"  
  
"Patil, ma'am."  
  
"Miss Patil. Parvati, am I correct? The one with the twin in Ravenclaw?" The girl nodded and Sheila continued. "Where was I? Oh yes. That's a very good question. Let me start from the beginning, okay?"  
  
"It all starts with my mother, Jacqueline Williams. After she graduated from here she found that she loved Hogwarts so much that she didn't want to leave. So, she became a teacher. A Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to be exact. Well, she taught for about eight years and in that span of time, she got married and eventually wanted to start a family. That's where I come in. When she found out that she was pregnant with me, she didn't want work to interfere with her newly found motherhood, so she took a leave of absence. A year, actually, for maternal leave, as you would call it nowadays."   
  
Sheila paused and took a deep breath. The class was staring intently at her.  
  
"She always told my father that a baby's first years were the most critical and that she should be there for every moment so, after a year of being a blissful mother, she decided to take another year off. But, unfortunately, she never made it. See, she died Halloween night, 15 years ago, leaving my father and I alone."  
  
She tried hard to blink back the oncoming tears.  
  
"She was an excellent teacher. Dumbledore told me that he always thought that she was one of the most skilled witches he had ever seen. She had this little room in our house. I called it 'The Magic Room' and that was where she kept all her lesson plans and spells. When I was younger, my dad never let me in there. He always kept it locked up, said that there were too many memories attached to it. But when I was 8, he finally decided that I was of age and he opened the door to me. I read every single one of her books, mastered all the spells and potions. You know, there aren't many wizards who know what I know or who can do what I can do. I learned everything I know now in that little room. Well, when I say everything, I mean everything you can possibly do without using a wand."  
  
Another girl raised her hand. "Yes, Miss-"  
  
"Brown. Lavender Brown. Didn't you get in trouble by the Ministry for doing underage magic?"  
  
Sheila smirked. "Yes well, the Ministry didn't exactly know where we were."  
  
"So, you were in hiding?" A boy with dark brown hair asked.  
  
"Uh, Mr.-"  
  
"Finnegan. Seamus Finnegan."  
  
"Ah, yes. I recognize you. The boy who was blowing milk bubbles out of his nose at breakfast this morning." Seamus blushed. "That question, my friend, is to be answered with another tale that will be told on another day."  
  
"Anyway," Sheila continued. "I practiced and studied and practiced and studied, day in and day out. My dad even taught me a few things. We were always together. He was all I had and I was all he had. He was my best friend. But then he-"   
  
She wiped away a few escaped tears and ventured on, after exhaling a deep breath.   
  
"But then he was m-murdered a couple of months ago and I was left completely alone. I didn't have any other family. Both my parents were only childs, so I had no aunts or uncles. And my grandparents have long been dead. My mom had this little journal she used when she was at Hogwart's and she always wrote about this wonderful man named Albus Dumbledore. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I wrote to him and, thankfully, he accepted me. Telling me I was a prime candidate for the next Jacqueline Williams, I packed my bags and set off. And here I am now."  
  
Sheila stood from where she was leaning against the desk and started walking around the classroom, idly weaving in and out of the students' desks, her high heels clicking with each step.   
  
"I left everything behind. My home. Memories of my parents. My preliminary existence. And came here, to Hogwart's, hoping I could find something more. Something worthwhile."  
  
She paused and looked at Harry. "And maybe, by some miracle act of Merlin, I will."   
  
*'Oh, believe me, you will...'* He thought.   
  
She clapped her hands. "Okay, enough of story time. Let's get down to business shall we." Sheila took off her school robe and placed it on the back of her chair, straightening her white button-up shirt and tie.   
  
"First, classroom rules." The students groaned. "Have no fear. They're fairly easy and I'm pretty sure you lot can handle them." She smiled and made her way to the chalkboard.   
  
"Rule #1: " She wrote, while saying it out loud. "Show me respect." She turned to the class. "This one's basically a given. Show me respect, for I am a teacher after all. This means inside this classroom and, Dumbledore insists on in the hallways too, but I don't think it matters. Show me some and I'll give you some in return. I don't like punishing people, but if I feel like they really need it, I'll do it. Don't test me, it's not very pretty. Okay? Good."   
  
"Rule #2: Respect each other. This, like Rule #1, is a given." She sighed.  
  
"I know all about the House rivalries, especially between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, but in my classroom there is no such thing. No one person is better than another. We are all equals and I expect ya'll to treat each other as such."   
  
"Rule #3: Just relax and have fun. We're all here to learn and learn is what we shall do. There is no such thing as a right or wrong answer, so feel free to voice your opinions. Don't be shy. Ask me as many questions as you feel necessary. My job is to make sure you understand the material I teach and I will do anything in my power to make sure that goal is met." She paused. "On a side note, if anyone misses any of my lessons, please feel free to ask me or a fellow student the material. My door is always open and if you're having trouble with a certain thing, then please, come in and I'll help you, I promise. Everyone clear on the rules?"  
  
The class nodded.  
  
"Excellent. This is easier than I thought. Oh and just a reminder, like many of you, I am only 16-years old. I'm just a teenager with a sarcastic sense of humor. Anything said in this classroom not pertaining to the initial lesson is said with a wink and a smile, so please don't be offended by it."  
  
Blaise Zabini raised his hand. "So, if I were to tell you I think you've got a nice ass, what would you do?"  
  
"I'd say look at Rule #1, the part about testing me, Mr.-"  
  
"Zabini... but you can call me the Slytherin Sex God..."  
  
"Sex God?" Sheila snorted. "Would you like me to bow down and lick your boots as well, Your Holiness?"  
  
"That depends... would you be naked?"  
  
Sheila smirked. "No, but you can." She snapped her fingers and all of Blaise's clothes vanished, leaving him clad only in his boxers. (Which, by the way, were pink with green polka dots.) The class erupted in laughter. Blaise's face flushed as his hands tried desperately to cover up his, ahem, private area.  
  
Sheila smirked. "One way I punish my students..." She snapped her fingers again and his clothes reappeared. "That is why, ladies and gentlemen, you shouldn't test me."  
  
Blaise smoothed down the front of his robes. "But I really meant it."  
  
Sheila walked over to his desk, grabbing his school tie, and roughly pulled him towards her. "So did I." She whispered, then let go. Blaise sneered and rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
Draco raised his hand.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Professor, how did you do that?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"That!?" He pointed at Blaise. "That 'snap my fingers and make his clothes disappear' thing!"  
  
Sheila smiled. "And so begins our very first lesson... Today you will be learning about a very difficult technique called Sans Wand Mageeck, or Wand less Magic. It's a very ancient practice, but is very essential, especially during these impending dark times. Now, can anybody tell me anything about Sans Wand Mageeck?"  
  
To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand shot up in the air.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger."  
  
"Sans Wand Mageeck came about during the Salem Witchcraft Trials. The people back then would find any excuse to accuse someone of witchcraft so witches and wizards everywhere had to hide their wands from prying eyes. When the actual execution came to play upon a said accused witch or wizard, they had to find a way to survive the incident without their wands. Christopher Sebastian Merewether invented, or shall I say, discovered Sans Wand Mageeck two years after the first witch execution and up until now, it was banned by the Ministry of Magic. They said no true witch or wizard would need to battle without his or her wand."  
  
"Very good." Sheila smiled. "Your like a walking textbook."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "She has no idea... " He whispered to Harry, who grinned.  
  
"10 points to Gryffindor.... Now, when fighting an enemy, your not always going to have your wand around, so learning this technique will help a lot. There are so many things you could do without your wand. For example, Stunning."   
  
Sheila snapped her fingers and Pansy Parkinson, who was reading a magazine under her desk and not paying attention, toppled out of her seat, the copy of Teen Witch Weekly tumbling after her. "Another way I punish my students. How long should I leave her like that?" Sheila placed a finger on her chin, contemplating.  
  
"All day, if you can..." Hermione mumbled.   
  
Sheila snapped her fingers again and Pansy got up, her knees shaking, a mild look of shock on her face. "I'd advise you to be a bit more attentive in my class, Miss-"  
  
"Parkinson." Pansy straightened out her skirt and sat back down. "Sorry, Professor Williams."  
  
"It's okay. In fact, 5 points to Slytherin for your participation. I would've made it 10, but your lack of an attention span made me second guess myself." Pansy flushed with embarrassment. "Moving on. Another example would be, Summoning."   
  
She looked up and Ron's Sugar Quill (the one he was still sucking on) zoomed across the room into her awaiting hand. She broke off a piece from the bottom and placed it in her mouth. "Mmm... I love these things. Alongside Summoning you would also have Banishing." The quill hovered above her hand for a moment before it soared back into Ron's still open mouth. He choked a little and spit the quill out. Sheila and the rest of the glass laughed.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. 5 points to Gryffindor for participation and 2 points for the cutest look of surprise I've ever seen." Ron blushed.  
  
"And last but not least," Sheila pulled out a small wooden box from beneath her desk and stood on it. "-the ever popular, Levitation." She snapped her fingers and was lifted off the wooden box, as if someone above her were pulling her up by an invisible rope. The class gasped. Sheila snapped her fingers again and was lowered back onto the box.  
  
"Those are the basic spells we'll be working with, with the exception of the one I used on Blaise... That one's strictly used for fun..." Blaise face flushed again. "But hopefully by the end of the year, you'll be able to do this." Sheila walked over to the window and opened it. She closed her eyes and snapped her fingers. The rain suddenly stopped. She reached out and carefully picked up a raindrop with her fingertip. She snapped her fingers again and the rain outside and the drop on her finger became liquid. She wiped her finger on the hem of her skirt and closed the window.   
  
"Wicked." Dean Thomas whispered.  
  
A bell sounded somewhere in the hall.  
  
"Well I guess that ends it for today. Please read over the chapters in your textbooks and feel free to practice some of the more simple spells!" She called after the retreating backs of her students. She sighed. "Thank you."  
  
The Trio walked up to Sheila as she was putting her cloak back on.  
  
"My gosh, you're a teacher. How will you manage your time?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I don't really know. This is, after all, my first class." Sheila shrugged. "We'll see where it goes, I guess."  
  
"This is so cool, Sheila, er- sorry, Professor Williams." Ron said.  
  
Sheila held up a hand, slinging her school bag onto her shoulder. "No Professor. Class is over. It's back to Sheila." Ron smiled.  
  
"Well come on, we do have another class, you know? Let's go before we're late." Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him out of the classroom. Sheila went to follow them, but felt a hand on her arm. It was Harry.  
  
"Sheila, did you mean what you said earlier?" He asked.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Earlier, when you said that hopefully you'll find something more here. Something worthwhile."   
  
Sheila looked at him, brows furrowed. "Why?"  
  
He lowered his eyes to the ground. "You looked at me when you said it." He took a step towards her. "That was no accidental look, I know. You meant what you said."  
  
"Maybe I did, but what's your point?"   
  
He looked up, into her eyes, and took one of her hands in both of his. "I know exactly what you're going through. I was also one when my parents died and I was sent to live with my horrible aunt and uncle. Orphaned and alone, I lost all hope. I thought this was it. That nothing could get better. But it did. The day I got my letter of acceptance from Hogwarts. But now I realize that I need something more... fulfilling... Just like you do."  
  
"What are you trying to say, Harry?"  
  
"I could be that thing for you... That thing you need."  
  
Sheila frowned, pulling her hand from his. "I gotta go..."  
  
Brushing back a few loose strands from her face, she walked out of the classroom, confusion, anger, and acceptance swimming in her head. Harry watched her go, cursing himself for his stupidity.   
  
"Why did I just do that? What the hell is wrong with me?"  
  
Shaking his head in shame, he walked quietly to his next class.  
  
A/N: Sorry if there was too much dialogue in this chapter. At least now you know who the new teacher is and why Sheila's REALLY there. You also got to hear more of her family and history, and that's essential for later chapters. What's going on with Harry? Why is he so determined to get to know Sheila? Stay tuned and find out! Review please! 


	6. Insight Rears Its Ugly Head

A/N: This is the chapter where it all starts coming to play because... well, you'll see! Thank you for all your reviews and enjoy!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 5:  
  
INSIGHT REARS ITS UGLY HEAD  
  
September days soon slid into October. The leaves were changing into a brilliant assortment of colors and the occasional flock of birds could be seen flying South. Days were getting shorter and in turn, Astronomy lessons were getting longer, to many students' disappointments.  
  
It was now mid-afternoon, Halloween day, and Sheila could be seen running frantically down the hallway. She was headed towards Dumbledore's office for her weekly meeting with him. She quickly glanced at her watch.  
  
"Shit! I'm already late!"  
  
*'I feel like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.'* She thought. Chuckling to herself, she came to an abrupt halt in front of the gargoyle statue.  
  
"Cockroach Cluster!" The gargoyle sprang to life and without waiting for it to fully open, Sheila squeezed passed it and flew up the stairs, running into someone who was going down.  
  
"Oomph." The person fell back.  
  
"Here let me help you." They took her offered hand and she pulled them up. They dusted off their robes and looked at her. "Oh, sorry Harry..."  
  
He mumbled an 'It's okay' and continued his descent. Sheila watched him go then turned and finished going up the stairs. She burst through the office door, out of breath.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore!" She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had to stay behind and help one of my students."  
  
Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes catching the candlelight as he gestured towards a seat. She immediately accepted and plopped down in front of his desk, lazily fanning herself with one hand.  
  
"It's quite alright, Miss Williams. You can always spare a few minutes from our meeting if a student is in need." Sheila smiled. "Now, how are you holding up?"  
  
Usually when asked this question, which was every single week, Sheila would say "I'm great, Professor! Everything is going smoothly.", but this week, this day, was different. Sheila frowned.   
  
"Is something wrong, Miss Williams?"  
  
"No. I'm great, Professor. Everything is going smoothly." She said quietly, looking down at her hands.  
  
He stared at her and she could feel his pale blue eyes burning into the top of her head. "I'm under the impression that you are lying to me, Miss Williams."   
  
Sheila grunted. *'That's because I am...'*  
  
"Professor, do you know what day it is?"  
  
"Of course I do. It's Halloween. Lemon drop?" He presented her with a glass bowl full of yellow candy. She shook her head in frustration and looked at him.  
  
"It's not only Halloween, Professor, but the anniversary of my mother's death."  
  
He set the bowl down. "I see." Steepleling his fingers, he leaned back in his chair. "And how does that make you feel?"  
  
Sheila caught a falling tear on her lip and she quickly licked it away. "How do you think it makes me feel?!"   
  
Dumbledore shrugged. "You tell me."  
  
Sheila gaped at him. "I feel... shitty and... confused and... irritated... and on top of all that, I feel very, very..." She paused and wiped her face. "... alone... I feel alone..."  
  
"Why would you feel alone? You have friends now. Talk to them about it. Maybe they will understand."  
  
"No! See that's the thing. I can't talk to them. About any of it. My mom died when I was only a baby! She didn't ask for it. She didn't know. She left my father and I alone. I had to grow up hiding from the one world that, now, I feel like I truly fit-in in! I couldn't go out. I had no friends. The only person I EVER talked to was my father and he's gone now too! I can't talk to anybody! They just won't understand! NOBODY KNOWS WHAT IT'S LIKE BEING SURROUNDED BY HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE YET FEELING COMPLETELY ALONE!"  
  
She fell back in her seat, out of breath, putting her head in her hands, and finally let 16 years worth of sobs take over. Dumbledore got up, a look of complete sympathy on his face, and kneeled down in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her knee.  
  
"I understand where you're coming from. It's never easy losing your family, then being thrown into an environment with strangers surrounding you." Sheila hiccupped. "But you must trust me when I say that everything will be alright. I promise."  
  
Sheila looked up, her face was blotchy and red, and gave him a small smile. "You really promise?"  
  
"I do."  
  
She sighed. "Thank you.... But that still doesn't erase the feeling of loneliness..."  
  
"Miss Williams, I fear that you are so blinded by your own utter despair that you fail to see that there is someone who knows EXACTLY what you're going through."  
  
Sheila cocked her head to one side, confused. "Who?"  
  
"Harry." She snorted. "Just talk to him and I'm sure you'll feel a lot better."  
  
"I wish I could, Professor, but I can't."  
  
Now it was Dumbledore's turn to look confused. "Why not?"  
  
Sheila took a deep breath then proceeded to tell him the incident that happened the first day of lessons. When she finished, she looked anywhere but at Dumbledore, a bit embarrassed.  
  
"Hmmm... well, that sure puts an interesting twist on things."  
  
"Tell me about it. And the worse part about it all is that he barely talks to me anymore, only when it comes to teacher-student business. He acts like I killed his puppy or something. I didn't mean to hurt him, I was just telling him how I felt at the time."  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "At the time?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You said 'At the time'. Which means what? You feel differently about him now?"  
  
Sheila didn't dare lie to him again and Dumbledore smiled when he saw her give the faintest hint of a nod.  
  
"And how DO you feel now?"  
  
Sheila hesitated. "S-scared..."  
  
He was a little surprised by her answer. "Really? And why is that, Miss Williams?"  
  
"B- because..." She took a deep breath. "Because I feel the same way he feels about me..."  
  
Dumbledore watched as she fiddled with the clasp on her robe's. *'An interesting twist on things indeed...'*  
  
"So, what do you propose you should do about it?"  
  
"About what? I can't very well tell him now. He probably hates me!"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head as he got up and returned to his seat behind his desk. "No. I know he doesn't hate you."  
  
"I ran into him on my way up your stairs. He would barely look at me. If that's not hate, then I don't know what is."  
  
"Miss Williams, did you know that, like yourself, Harry comes in here once a week for a meeting?" Sheila shook her head. "Well, he does and do you know what he talks about the most?" Again, Sheila shook her head. "You, Miss Williams."  
  
Sheila stared at him in disbelief. "He talks about me? What does he say?"  
  
"Oh, the usual. How you're very pretty. What a great teacher you are. How your jokes always make him laugh." He smiled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was smitten with you."  
  
Sheila laughed. "He really said those things about me?"  
  
"Yes, he did. Trust me. Just talk to him. He'll eventually come around. You two could lean on each other. You have both been through similar things. Don't let one little incident ruin a potentially great friendship."  
  
Sheila nodded. "You're right. I'll talk to him." She sighed, the tears already dry on her face. "I feel so embarrassed..."  
  
"Believe me, I've heard worse problems..." He popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is." She sighed. "Why the Hufflepuffs? Couldn't I attend classes with another House?"  
  
Dumbledore laughed. "I knew this would eventually come up. Miss Williams, you know very well that the Hufflepuffs' 6th year class schedule is the only House schedule that is able to work around your teaching schedule."  
  
Sheila grumbled. "Yes, but the Hufflepuffs? Come on, Professor. You know how they are."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand. " I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to deal with it. There is no other alternative." He clapped his hands together. "Now, unless there is something else you would like to discuss, I suggest you get going. The Halloween feast will be starting soon."  
  
Sheila nodded, giving him a small 'Thank you' and left, closing the old door behind her.  
  
"That poor girl... She really has no idea..."  
  
Sighing, Dumbledore wiped away the crystal tear that managed to escape his pale blue eye and popped another lemon drop in his mouth.  
  
~*~*~  
  
There was only one word you could truly use to describe the Halloween feast and that was delicious. Sheila and Harry still weren't talking, but every once in a while one of them would glance in the other's direction. Sheila's mind was still reeling with what Dumbledore told her and she knew that she had to talk to him soon, no matter what.   
  
"Ugh, I'm so full." Ron said, holding his bulging stomach. Sheila and the Trio were walking, (well actually wobbling) slowly towards the Gryffindor Tower. They finally reached it and stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Password?"  
  
Hermione stepped forward. "Treacle Pudding."  
  
"No! No more food!" Ron said. He was leaning against the wall, groaning.   
  
The portrait swung open to reveal the entrance to the common room. Hermione and Ron entered, but before Harry could, Sheila stepped in front of him, shutting the portrait closed.  
  
"Umm, Harry, can I talk to you?" She asked, quietly.  
  
He looked at her. After a minute, he shrugged. "Sure. What about?"  
  
"Well, it's about the classroom incident."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
Sheila sighed. "You know which one..."  
  
Harry looked taken aback. "I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Yes, you do."  
  
"Nothing happened, okay?" He grabbed the edge of the portrait, but Sheila slammed it shut again.  
  
"You can't very well pretend that it didn't happen. It did."  
  
He sighed. "Don't you think I know that? Remember, you're the one that walked away from my proposal! You hurt me!" He was starting to get angry. "I really do like you, Sheila, and I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I'll be damned if I'm going to just stand here and listen to you rub it in some more!" He made a grab for the portrait again, but she slapped his hand away.  
  
"Oh my Merlin! Would you just listen to me?" She took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry I hurt you. At the time, yes, I was confused and scared. But after thinking about it, a lot, I realize that now I'm just scared."  
  
"Why would you be scared of me?"  
  
Sheila shook her head. "It's not you, I swear. When you told me how you felt, I was just completely overwhelmed. But I'm not scared of you... I'm afraid because I've never felt this way before..."  
  
Now, Harry was curious. "And how DO you feel?"  
  
*'Oh Merlin, this is it...'* Sheila took a deep breath and looked at him. "I feel-"  
  
Suddenly the portrait swung violently open, hitting Harry in the face. Out stumbled Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, Butter Beer wafting from their robes.  
  
"TRICK OR TREAT?!" They yelled then took off running down the hall.  
  
Sheila monitored their drunken stupor, then turned back to the portrait. It was shut and Harry was nowhere to be seen.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sheila opened the door to her bedroom and saw Hermione pulling her school bag onto her shoulder.   
  
"Going somewhere?" Sheila asked, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"Yup, the library. I have a Potions essay due next week and I need a couple of more inches before it's complete." She picked up a quill and stuffed it into her bag. "Do you wanna come?"  
  
Sheila shrugged. "Sure. I have nothing better to do."   
  
Hermione stopped what she was doing and looked at her. "Why the long face?" Sheila shook her head. "Oh, this is about Harry again, isn't it?" Sheila nodded. "Don't worry about it. He's an outstanding person. He'll eventually come around."  
  
"I hope you're right, Hermione." Quickly grabbing her own school bag and picking up a napping Sebastian from her bed, she followed Hermione down the stairs and into the common room.  
  
She didn't see Harry, but had a feeling he was in here somewhere. She heard someone yell 'Checkmate!' and was completely unaware of the green eyes that followed her as she stepped out the portrait hole.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Hermione, come on. It's really late."  
  
Sheila was lounging in a huge, over-stuffed armchair in a corner of the library, her brown eyes peering up from the book in her lap, watching the girl pull another book down from a nearby shelf. Sebastian sat on the armrest beside her, his pink tongue sporadically flicking out and licking his tiny, blonde paw.  
  
"It is not." Hermione said, grunting as she finally pulled the book, 'A Seer's Guide to Prophecies', free. "Besides, the sun's still out." She pointed to a window.  
  
"What? No way." Sheila closed the book, setting it on the chair and got up to peer out the tall, Victorian window. She huffed. "Hermione, come here." She said in her sweetest voice.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You see that big circle thing in the sky." Hermione nodded. "Yeah, that's not the sun."  
  
"It's not?"  
  
"No! Hermione, that's the moon!"  
  
Hermione shrugged, still holding the book she acquired in her hands, and sat, cross-legged on the floor. "Same difference. Besides, there's nothing wrong with wanting to learn more about the wizarding world, Sheila."  
  
Sheila turned away from the window, rolling her eyes. "I totally agree, but you finished your essay 2 hours ago and Madam Pince just left. You can expand your mind at school." Hermione looked at her curiously. "You know... That huge building that's attached to this library..." Sheila stealthily grabbed the book from Hermione's hand, causing a noise of protest to escape from her friend's mouth.  
  
"Hey! Give that back!"  
  
"No." Sheila snapped her fingers, the book shrinking in her hand, and stuck it in her pocket.  
  
"Fine! Be that way." Hermione walked over to the chair Sheila was previously sitting on and grabbed the book lying there. "I want to learn and learn is what I shall do!"  
  
"Ugh! Hermione quit being stubborn." Sheila looked at her watch. "It's now 10:35. I think we should get to bed." She saw Hermione shake her head. She walked over to where Hermione was sitting and scratched Sebastian's head. "Look, I know you want to learn, but you can do that all day tomorrow... It's a Saturday. So, come on. A proper night's sleep is what you need." Hermione looked up.  
  
"But I'm not tired..." She whined, making Sheila grin.  
  
"Oh yeah. Then why are you reading the book upside down?"  
  
Hermione looked at the book and started laughing. "Maybe you're right." She closed the book. "Sleep does sound like a good idea."  
  
They picked up their school supplies, along with Sebastian, and left the library.  
  
~*~*~  
  
*(A/N: Everything in caps is the dream because italics don't show up for some reason on my account... everything else is the reality.)*  
  
Sheila slept, occasionally, tossing and turning in her four-poster bed. Her gold and red sheets were snaking around her inert form as if holding her back, or protecting her from something. The heavy, crimson drapes enveloped the bed, stifling the quick, short breaths of its sleeper. Through a crack in the curtains, the moon snuck in, its pale, yellow light glistening on the sweat of her brow.  
  
Sheila turned towards the window, the moonlight now falling directly over her closed eyes, casting the rest of her face into exiled shadows. The only sounds that could be heard in the vast Prefect room were her whimpers and Hermione's soft snoring from across the room.  
  
"YOU HAVE TO LET GO OR ELSE WE BOTH DIE!"  
  
  
  
"I CAN'T!"  
  
Sheila's right hand shot up in the air, the other firmly gripping the sheets beneath her. She let out a choked sob.  
  
"YES! YES, YOU CAN!"  
  
"NO! I CAN'T! I WON'T LOSE YOU AT THE HANDS OF THAT BASTARD!"  
  
"BUT YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO SOONER OR LATER!" THE BOY WAS CRYING, HIS TEARS FALLING ONTO HER FACE BELOW. HE SHOOK HIS HEAD IN A VIGOROUS MOTION, HIS SILENT ANSWER CAUSING FURY TO BUBBLE INSIDE HER.  
  
"DAMN IT! DO IT NOW!"  
  
Sheila was unconsciously moving her lips, silently saying the words in synchronization to that of the girl in the dream. Her face was twisted in anger, her right hands' fingers moving over something invisible.  
  
A LOW GROWL SIGNALED THE ARRIVAL OF THE THING THEY WERE DREADING.   
  
"HE'S HERE!" PANIC WAS RISING IN HER VOICE. "YOU MUST LET GO! HURRY!"  
  
"NO! IT'S TOO SOON! FUCK! THIS WASN'T PART OF THE PLAN!"  
  
"JUST COMPLY! QUIT BEING STUBBORN AND DO IT! JUST LET GO!"  
  
SHE LOOKED UP AT HIM, TEARS ROLLING DOWN HER FACE. HE NODDED HIS HEAD, EYES CLOSED, BREATHING SHALLOW, AND AFTER ONE MORE BRIEF HESITATION, RELEASED HIS GRIP HE HAD ON HER WRIST.   
  
Sheila's right arm fell back to the bed with a small *Thud*.   
  
THE BOY OPENED HIS EYES, WATCHING HER FALL AWAY FROM HIM.  
  
'50 FEET.' HE THOUGHT.  
  
AWAY FROM HER FRIENDS.  
  
'40 FEET.'  
  
HER HOME.  
  
'30 FEET.'  
  
HER LIFE.  
  
'20 FEET.'  
  
BUT MOST OF ALL, FROM HER LOVE.  
  
'10 FEET.'  
  
"I LOVE YOU..." HE WHISPERED TO HER BELOW.  
  
'0 FEET.' HE CLOSED HIS EYES, THEN ALL WENT TO BLACK.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sheila woke up screaming. She tried to take a deep breath, but found that she wasn't breathing at all.   
  
*'Oh shit... I'm dead...'*  
  
Her vision was blurred and her eyes were stinging. There was a slight pressure on her head and she couldn't hear anything except her own heartbeat.   
  
*'No, not dead... Underwater...'*  
  
She looked up and could see the pale moonlight streaming through the opaque water. Swiftly, yet cautiously, she swam to the top, her head finally breaking the surface. She took in several deep breaths, then looked around her.  
  
"The lake outside the school." She said, causing some water to enter her mouth. She gagged, spitting out the dirty water.  
  
She groaned, her muscles aching, as she swam to shore. She got out of the water, her night clothes weighing her down a bit. She looked down.  
  
"And of course it has to be cold outside..." Although no one was around to see, she still crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
She stood there for a moment and eventually her mind wandered back to the dream. She remembered it so vividly, like it was taking place right in front of her. The expression on that boy's face when he had to let her go. And then her face... it was heart-wrenching... They looked so much in love and Sheila was subconsciously reminded that she was alone.  
  
"What does it mean?" Sheila let out a small sob. "Why do I keep having this dream?" She gritted her teeth in anger. "WHY DO YOU KEEP HAUNTING ME?!"  
  
Her yells of fury seemed to echo back to her, yet not one of those "voices" replied with an answer. She finally just gave up, the emotional river that pushed against her broke through and she fell to her knees, her body wracking with sobs.  
  
"Sheila?"  
  
She stopped crying suddenly and hastily wiped her face. Looking up at the person, she jumped in surprise.  
  
"Hello..." She said quietly.  
  
A/N: Another cliffhanger! Do you hate me or do you hate me? *grin* The next chapter will correspond with this one. Sheila's had this dream before, huh? What does it mean? And what does Dumbledore know? Hmm, an interesting twist on things indeed... Hope you enjoyed and review please! 


	7. Sweetest Are The Stolen Kisses

A/N: This chapter corresponds with the last one, only it's in Harry's POV. Well, enjoy!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 6:  
  
SWEETEST ARE THE STOLEN KISSES  
  
"I don't know, Professor... It just doesn't feel right... I mean, deceiving people on purpose... That's not who I am..." Harry was anxiously sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, his butt resting on the edge of the seat in fervent hope.  
  
"I know, Harry. But keep in mind that the wizarding world depends on this happening. You know that."  
  
"I know, I know. Can't I at least tell Ron and Hermione about it?"  
  
"No. You cannot do that. It could ruin the effect."  
  
Harry sighed. "But still, it might not even work. Right now, she's not even talking to me..."   
  
"Why is that?" Harry told him about the classroom incident and Dumbledore nodded his understanding.  
  
"Harry, I don't think this is really my kind of department. I haven't been out with a young woman in years." Harry sighed. "But I can tell you this much. Although she's never come right out and said it, I think she likes you."  
  
Harry's eyes widened with joy. "Really?"  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. "Yes, well, I do catch her looking at you across the table in the Great Hall every once in a while. She's a smart girl. She'll soon realize she has feelings for you and then the Prophecy can-"  
  
Harry laughed. "I wouldn't go that far, Professor. Right now, I just want to be her friend."   
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Always were a gentlemen, Harry." Harry blushed. Dumbledore glanced at his watch. "Dear me, my next appointment is running a bit late. I hope she has a good reason."  
  
"I guess I'll take my leave then, Professor." Harry held out his hand and Dumbledore shook it. "Thanks again."  
  
He got up from his seat and walked over to the door, closing it behind him. He was halfway down the stairs when something, or someone rather, ran into him. He fell back with an 'Oomph.' Accepting the offered hand of the person who knocked him off his feet, he got up, dusting himself off.  
  
"Oh, sorry Harry..."  
  
It was Sheila. Even when her face was full of concern, she looked cute.  
  
"It's okay." Harry mumbled then continued down the stairs.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sheila wanted to talk to him and on any other day he would have been thrilled, but right now all Harry wanted to do was sit down. Eating too much could really make someone feel sick.  
  
*'Oh shit. She asked about what happened in the classroom'* He took a deep breath. *'Just act really pissed off or something.'*  
  
He sighed. "Don't you think I know that? Remember, you're the one that walked away from my proposal! You hurt me!" He was starting to get angry. "I really do like you, Sheila, and I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I'll be damned if I'm going to just stand here and listen to you rub it in some more!" He made a grab for the portrait again, but she slapped his hand away.  
  
*'Why does she keep doing that?! I just want to sit down...'*  
  
Sheila took a deep breath and looked at him. "I feel-"   
  
*'This is it!'* Harry reeled back as the portrait swung open, smacking him in the face. He could hear Dean and Seamus on the other side, obviously drunk.  
  
*'Those gits!'*   
  
Harry peeked around the side of the portrait's frame and could see Sheila watching Dean and Seamus go down the hall. Without making any noise, he snuck into the common room, closing the portrait behind him, leaving Sheila out in the hall in complete confusion.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Why'd you go and do something like that for?" Ron moved his piece two squares to the right. "Go. It's your move."  
  
"I don't know why I even bother." He said, moving his chosen piece.  
  
"I don't either. I mean I kick your ass EVERY TIME we play Wizard's Chess..."  
  
Harry glared at his best friend across the board. "Not that, you wanker, I was talking about Sheila."  
  
"Oh right. Her... So, what about her?"  
  
"Did you not listen to a word of my story? Ron, she finally came up to me, willing to talk, and what'd I do? I go and get hit in the face with a portrait and sneak away with a bloody nose." Harry adjusted the Kleenex that was stuck up his nostril. "I'm so stupid!"  
  
"No you're not. You just got scared that's all. She's a good girl. If she was courageous enough to talk to you just now, she'll be courageous enough to do it again. Don't worry about it." Ron made his final move, grinning triumphantly. "Checkmate!"  
  
But Harry wasn't paying attention. He was too busy watching Sheila walk across the common room and out the portrait hole without so much as a glance in his direction.  
  
"I'm going to bed." He mumbled. He got up from the little table in the corner and went upstairs to his bedroom, despite Ron's objections.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry couldn't sleep. He felt tired, but his mind just wasn't willing to shut down as of yet. It was still too focused on Sheila. For some reason, he just had this feeling of impending doom due to this plan. He shut his eyes, but they quickly snapped back open.  
  
"This is impossible..."   
  
He quietly got out of bed, throwing his school cloak on. He rummaged through his trunk and pulled out his inherited Invisibility Cloak. Harry grinned, reminiscing about all the adventures he was able to have due to this silvery piece of fabric. Grabbing his Firebolt, (which he miraculously got back from Professor Umbridge last year) he walked out his dorm and made his way to the Quidditch pitch.  
  
~*~*~  
  
  
  
It felt so good to feel the air ruffling through his hair. He leaned down on his broom and saw the ground zooming towards him, faster and faster. He pulled out of the Wrongski Feint just in time, showing off the skills of a true Quidditch Seeker.  
  
He laughed, like he didn't have a care in the world.  
  
"It's so good to be back up here..."  
  
He heard a huge splash coming from the direction of the lake. *'It's probably just the giant squid...'* Shrugging, he circled the Quidditch pitch a couple of times, stopping short when he heard someone yell 'WHY DO YOU KEEP HAUNTING ME?!'. Curious, Harry flew over the stadium wall in the direction of the voice.   
  
He didn't see anybody at first, but then he neared the lake, spotting someone kneeling on the ground, obviously crying. He flew down and landed softly on the grass about 7 feet away. As he walked closer to the figure, he could see that it was a girl. A familiar looking girl at that....  
  
"Sheila?"  
  
Sheila stopped crying suddenly and hastily wiped her face. Looking up him, she jumped in surprise.  
  
"Hello..." She said quietly.   
  
"Hello..." He paused. "What're you doing out here?"  
  
She turned away from him, shrugging. "Nothing. Just enjoying a midnight swim..." She brought her knees up to her chin, resting her head atop them.  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
She glared at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Bullshit. I heard you yelling at something. Just tell me what's up."  
  
Fresh tears were already rolling down her face and Harry could see her shivering. He removed his school cloak and placed it around her. She smiled thankfully at him.  
  
"Are you always such a gentlemen, Harry Potter?"  
  
"Some people tell me I am..." He paused, taking a seat next to her. "Are you going to tell me what's really going on out here or do I have to take drastic measures?"  
  
She raised a regally arched eyebrow at him, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Drastic measures?" He nodded. "Like what?"  
  
He grinned, holding up his hands. "See these." He wriggled his fingers. "They can tickle even the strongest person to death."  
  
Sheila smirked. "You wouldn't dare..."  
  
"Suit yourself..." He poked her playfully in the side. She let out a yelp of surprise.  
  
"Harry!"   
  
He smirked. "I warned you..." He poked her again. "Now, tell me what's going on."  
  
"No." She poked him back.  
  
"Ow..." He rubbed his side. "Okay, if that's how you want to play..." He lunged at her then, but she was much faster. She jumped to her feet, throwing his cloak off, and ran a few feet away from him.  
  
Yeah, he had to admit, she had fast reflexes, but he was faster. He caught up to her in no time, tackling her gently to the ground. She rolled over, giggling, and he pinned her legs down with his body.  
  
"You can torture me if you must, but I will never tell!" She yelled dramatically.  
  
"Tell me what's going on."  
  
"Well, I'm not the one on top of you, so you tell ME what's going on." She said teasingly.  
  
"You know what I mean! All right, that's it." He lunged for her wrists, got one, and held it away just far enough from her side to tickle her armpit. Sheila shrieked, trying to pull sideways, but Harry held on. "Nope, you were asking for it, Williams! Now you're gonna get it..."   
  
The tickle fight ended with Sheila shaking with laughter underneath him, Harry on top of her, digging his fingers into her ribs (which had turned out to be her most ticklish spot).   
  
"Give! Give!" Harry playfully demanded.  
  
"Aaaahhh! Unforgivable Curse number f-four, Potter! I'll have the Ministry on you!" She howled.   
  
He at last desisted and sank down with his forehead resting on hers, laughter still bubbling out of both of them, but it was starting to slow, as they caught their breath.  
  
When they both finally became quiet and they spent a few moments just looking into each other's eyes, Harry slowly moved his head just a little. Keeping his gaze on hers, as though giving her a chance to stop him by just changing the look in her eyes, he kissed her.  
  
A/N: Whoa! Very interesting... Well, I got the fluffy little interlude out of the way... So, yeah... Stay tuned. The next chapter will continue from this one! Please review! 


	8. Contemplations and Constellations

A/N: Sorry the last chapter was so short, but I couldn't very well continue after that kiss! Tehe... This chapter and the next are going to be a bit fluffy as Sheila and Harry's friendship develops, but I can't just leave these things out, so just stick with me, okay? Here you go and enjoy!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 7:  
  
CONTEMPLATIONS AND CONSTELLATIONS  
  
  
  
*'Oh dear Merlin... his lips are on mine... we're kissing! But what soft lips he has... Wait! What am I saying?!'*  
  
Sheila pulled away from him. "What are you doing?"  
  
*'Fuck...'* Harry opened his eyes. He could see confusion etched on her face. "I'm sorry..." He quickly got up and helped her off the ground. "I don't know what came over me and I apologize for taking advantage of the situation."  
  
Sheila grinned. "Such a gentleman..." She sighed. "Look, Harry, it's okay. It's not like I didn't want it..."  
  
"So then... you wanted it?"  
  
"I didn't say that. I just said that it's not like I didn't want it."  
  
"I'm confused..."  
  
"Don't get me wrong or anything, it's just... I'm an old fashioned kind of girl. I am a firm believer in becoming someone's friend before taking the next step towards a more... intimate relationship."  
  
Harry nodded. "I totally feel the same way... This is great..."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Such a gentleman..."   
  
He poked her in the side. "You said that already..."  
  
"Yes, well, I mean it..."  
  
They stood in silence for a few minutes. Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"You never did tell me why you were out here alone."  
  
*'Alone...'* That word struck a nerve. *'Goodness he has no idea...'* Sheila could feel the tears welling up already. She shook her head.  
  
"It was nothing. Really..." She turned away from him, covering her eyes with her hands.  
  
"Don't lie to me. If we're going to be friends, you have to learn to be honest with me."  
  
*'Damn him! He was right.'* She sighed. *'Dumbledore DID say I should talk to him about my problems...'*  
  
"Okay..." She sat down on the slightly wet grass and patted the place beside her. He complied and she looked at him. "Are you ready for this?"  
  
~*~*~  
  
It took her an hour or so to tell him everything. The dream. What she said in Dumbledore's office. How much it hurt to have him not talking to her. And by the end of it all, he was also in tears.  
  
"I understand EXACTLY how you feel..." He sniffled.  
  
"Dumbledore said you would." She wiped her face. "I'm just glad he was right."  
  
"He usually is."  
  
Sheila smiled. "I'm so glad all that's out in the open now. I don't feel so... bottled up anymore. It's like this huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders."  
  
He put an arm around her and pulled her towards him. They fell back onto the grass, Sheila shifting down so that her head was resting on his stomach. (A/N: Think of a capital 'T')   
  
"Your welcome." He paused. "You know the one thing I don't get though?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"How did you end up in the lake?"  
  
Sheila considered this. "I never really thought of that... Apparation, maybe?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. It's not allowed inside Hogwart's grounds. It must be something else...."  
  
Sheila shrugged. "I don't know... Your guess is as good as mine..." A moment of silence passed between them. "Orion's Belt."  
  
"What?" Harry looked down at her and saw that her eyes were cast towards the sky.  
  
"Orion's Belt. Don't you pay any attention in Astronomy?"  
  
He chuckled. "Yup. Look. The Big Dipper."  
  
"Impressive. The Pleiades or, put simply, The Seven Sisters." She pointed to a patch of stars to the right.  
  
"The Little Dipper."  
  
"The Horseman."  
  
"Oh yeah. The Great Bear."  
  
"I can top that. Leo."  
  
"You sound like a shoo-in for the next Astronomy teacher. Do you know all 88 of them?"  
  
Sheila smirked. "Well, I don't like to brag... The Warrior."  
  
"Hmmm.... Canis Major, or, the Great Dog."  
  
Sheila grew silent. She sat up, looking at the group of stars he pointed to.  
  
"Did I say something wrong?"  
  
Sheila smiled. "I almost forgot about that one..." She licked her lips. "When I was 6, I used to beg my dad to build me a tree house in the big oak tree in our backyard. He kept telling me 'No, you're still too young. You could get hurt', but that didn't stop me. Eventually he gave in and that very summer he built me one."  
  
Harry sat up, leaning on one elbow, and stared at her intently.  
  
"It was perfect. Painted white with pink trim and shutters. I loved that place. It was my own little hideout. My dad worked for the Ministry so he was always away on business and when he was gone, I was too scared to stay in the house alone, so I would spend the night in the tree house. Eventually my dad didn't want me to be ALONE alone, so he got me a puppy."   
  
Sheila laughed.  
  
"I remember that day too. My dad was gone again and I woke up because something was licking my face. It was a puppy. A black one. I was so happy. I named him Padfoot because he had these huge paws and they reminded me of the scrub pads my dad used to clean the dishes. Every time my dad left, I would have him to keep me company."   
  
She cocked her head to one side.   
  
"Funny thing is, Padfoot was gone most of the time and only showed up when my dad left..."  
  
Sheila shrugged.  
  
"Anyway, the first time my dad spent the night in my tree house, he magicked the ceiling to look like the night sky, you know, like in the Great Hall. We stayed up for hours just staring up at it. He would point out various constellations here and there, but the very first one he identified was the Great Dog. He said it was his favorite and after he told me the story behind it, it became my favorite as well. It reminded me so much of Padfoot, and Padfoot always reminded me of my dad."   
  
Sheila smiled.   
  
"I guess that's why I love it so much... I can't believe I almost forgot about it... Well, when my father died, I tore the tree house down. I just couldn't look at it anymore. It held too many memories..."  
  
She wiped the tears from her cheeks.  
  
"Your dad and you were really close, weren't you?"  
  
"We were. He was my best friend... next to Padfoot, of course."  
  
Harry fiddled with the blades of grass beside him, thinking. "Sheila?"  
  
"Hmmm..."  
  
"How did your father die?"  
  
Sheila tore her eyes away from the stars and stared at him, then looked down at her hands. "He was murdered by a Death Eater."  
  
"When?"  
  
"June in the Ministry of Magic."  
  
"Man, that was only a couple of months ago." He paused. "Did they ever find his body?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What was his name?"  
  
"Richard."  
  
"Was he in the Order?"  
  
"Order? What Order?"  
  
"The Order of the Phoenix. Was he in it?"  
  
"What's with the interrogation, Harry?"  
  
"Just answer the question."  
  
Sheila stared at him, then turned away, thinking. "Yeah... I think he was... Why do you wanna know?"  
  
Harry shook his head, smirking. "I have my reasons..." He grew quiet again. "Umm... it's probably none of my business or anything, but why were you guys in hiding? Did you do something illegal?"  
  
Sheila set her face in anger. "No. The day after my mother was murdered, my dad went out looking for the person who did it. It turned out to be the same person who killed his two best friends as well. Their names were Harold and Christina and I guess Voldemort had it out for them too, because they died the same night as my mom."  
  
She took a deep breath.  
  
"Anyway, the day after they were murdered my dad goes looking for Peter, the guy who did it, and finds him on a street in the city. A few words are thrown around and then out of nowhere, the guy pulls out his wand and blows the street to pieces. He not only killed my mother and my father's two best friends, but also 12 muggles and himself. Or so people thought. Rumor has it that Peter was an unregistered Animagus and when he blasted the street, he turned into a rat, escaping into the sewer and leaving my dad to take the blame. Luckily at his trial, Dumbledore gave evidence and my father was let off. Unfortunately, Voldemort was still looking for us, so Dumbldore insisted we go into hiding... So we did."  
  
Harry sighed. "Merlin, that sucks... Wait, you said the Ministry didn't know where you were, that's why they couldn't punish you for underage wizardry."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So... how can you work for the Ministry and them not know where you live?"  
  
Sheila smirked. "We had our ways..."  
  
"Right... So... they never caught the guy who killed your mom, huh?"  
  
Sheila shook her head. "He's running around out there somewhere. It wouldn't surprise me if he was the one who helped Voldemort to rise 2 years ago..."  
  
*'If only you knew how right you were...'* He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry... Yeah, they never caught the person who killed my parents either." He paused, thinking. "His name was Sirius Black."  
  
Sheila looked at him. "What about him?"  
  
"He killed my parents! He was supposed to be their secret keeper or something, but in the end, he told Voldemort their location and got them killed. Only I survived..."  
  
"Who told you that?"  
  
"Dumbledore. Why?"  
  
Sheila smirked. "I have my reasons..."  
  
"Right... Anyway, thankfully, Sirius was murdered last year, so I don't have to worry about him anymore."  
  
"Lucky for you..."   
  
A light autumn breeze blew passed the now quiet teenagers. Harry drew in a deep breath, breaking the silence.   
  
"Sheila?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How do you do it?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Go through each day laughing, like you don't have all these problems. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't see this huge smile on your face."  
  
Sheila shrugged. "I don't know... I guess I just don't let things get to me. Carpe diem, that's what I say. Seize the day. You never know... I could die right now and I'd rather die with a smile on my face then die pissed off or crying."  
  
Harry smirked. "Die with a smile on your face, huh?" He ran a finger lightly up her arm. "I can make that happen..."  
  
Sheila rolled her eyes, smiling, and swatted his hand away. "Back off, Casanova." She paused. "I'm still a virgin."  
  
"YOU ARE?!" Harry cleared his throat. "I mean, you are?" Sheila nodded. "Well I didn't mean sex..."  
  
"Sure, sure." She looked at him. "I take it that your not a virgin anymore." It was more of a statement, then a question.   
  
Harry blinked. "How'd you know?"  
  
"I dunno... You just give off this aura."  
  
"Well, you're right..."  
  
"You don't seem too happy about it. You regret any of them?"  
  
"Only 3."  
  
"How many girls have you been with?" Sheila asked, incredulously.  
  
"Only 3."  
  
"You even regret the girl you lost it to?!"  
  
"I especially regret the girl I lost it to!"  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
Harry sighed. "Cho Chang, Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."  
  
"Oh... Doing a little one on one with the opposing team, eh?" She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, stopping when Harry glared at her. "Sorry." She looked across the lake. "Did you- did you love her?"  
  
"I thought I did, but I guess it was just my hormones or something."  
  
"Yeah, damn those hormones!" They looked at each and laughed.  
  
"Were you ever in love, Sheila?"  
  
Sheila guffawed. "How could I? The only other living soul I saw besides my father, was my cousin and that would've been illegal..."  
  
  
  
"Oh right, duh..."  
  
  
  
"Nevermind that... Tell me more about this Cho Chang..."  
  
"What is there to tell? I had a crush on her since 3rd year, we talked a little in my 4th year, and last year we dated."  
  
"And had sex." Sheila added.  
  
"Yup, and had sex. A lot of it. Sometimes I think that's what are whole relationship was based on."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Well, the more and more I talked to her, the less I realized we had in common. It was just a physical attraction. I don't even know why I went out with her for so long."  
  
"Why did you?"  
  
He shrugged. "It's gotta be the hormones."   
  
"So... what's up with Ron and Hermione? Are they like going out or something?"  
  
"Since 4th year. Ron got so jealous when Hermione went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, insisting that it should be him with her. So, Ron, not being the 'look before you leap' kind of guy, punches Viktor in the nose, which in turn soaks Hermione with punch. She was so furious with him that she didn't talk to him for a month."  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. One day, Hermione just walked over to him and kissed him. They've been going out ever since."  
  
"Have they ever... you know?"  
  
Harry feigned a look of disgust, then grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Well, sometimes after they fight, they disappear into the bathroom to "talk things out", and when their done, they both emerge with these HUGE smiles on their faces. It's scary enough to make people wonder..."  
  
Sheila laughed. Harry reached over and took her hand in his. She rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a while.   
  
"What ever happened to your grandparents?" Harry asked.  
  
"Nice change of subject there. Just kidding. What about my grandparents?"  
  
"Well, you said that you didn't have any other family, that's why you came here, so what happened to your grandparents?"  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
"Oh... Your whole family was murdered by Voldemort?"  
  
"For the most part." She paused. "Except for my grandmother, Victoria. It was so weird... She just up and disappeared one day."  
  
"Victoria? Victoria Williams?"  
  
"Yeah, that was her name. Why?"  
  
Harry's mind fluttered to his dream he had over the summer. *'Could it be the same woman? Is Sheila's grandmother an associate to Lord Voldemort?'* Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment, then stood, letting go of Sheila's hand, and brushed the stray grass from his pajamas.  
  
"We'd better go inside. It's really late."  
  
Sheila nodded and stood, wrapping Harry's school cloak tighter around herself. Harry draped an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the castle.  
  
She wiped away a tear and looked back at the constellation of the Great Dog.  
  
"Goodnight, daddy..."  
  
A/N: Still trying to process all that information? It was quite a bit, wasn't it? It's essential to the story! Please review! 


	9. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!

Okay guys, I really, really, REALLY hate to this to you, but I feel that it's necessary in order for me to, uh, write this story correctly. So, in saying that, I'm not going to be updating for at LEAST a week.  
  
Now, before you start a riot or something to that effect, I just want to say that I really NEED to do it.  
  
See, each time I write a new chapter, I find myself going back to previous chapters and revising some things so that the plot can run more smoothly. I especially had trouble with the 7th chapter and had to upload it no less than 3 times because I kept forgetting important things in the dialogue.  
  
On that note, if you only read the 7th chapter the first time, maybe you should read it again because I did add more things to it!  
  
So, I feel that right now I should just go ahead and write the complete story and THEN upload it onto Fanfiction.net probably one chapter at a time.  
  
The first 7 chapters will stay up for your reading pleasure, but please don't expect an update for a few days.  
  
I'm really sorry I have to do this, but like I said I HAVE to do this!  
  
Just stick with it! I promise I'll make it up to you guys!  
  
Don't forget to recommend this story to others and by all means, review!  
  
BTW, special shout-out to Tessa66: You didn't leave an e-mail address so I couldn't thank you for your review! So, I'm thanking you now! I appreciate it!   
  
  
  
Happy reading guys!!! And sorry again. 


	10. The Unattainable Mission

A/N: If this isn't your first time reading this story, I suggest you go back and read the other chapters over again! I added a few new things and it's important that you know about them! Again, thank you so much for the reviews. I appreciate them, really I do. Well, here's the next chapter... Happy reading!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 8:  
  
THE UNATTAINABLE MISSION  
  
"So, what are you going to wear?" Sheila asked. A sweet November breeze swept passed the two girls. Sheila pulled her cloak tighter around herself.  
  
Hermione shrugged, adjusting her hat. "I don't really know.... A dress..."  
  
Sheila put a hand over her mouth in mock surprise. "No... It's that what you're supposed to wear to a Christmas ball?"  
  
Hermione playfully smacked her friend's arm. "Don't make fun..." She stuck out her bottom lip.  
  
Sheila laughed, throwing an arm over Hermione's shoulders. "I'm just kidding."   
  
They were walking down the main street of Hogsmeade, trying to find a quaint little dress shop so they could purchase their gowns for the Christmas ball.  
  
"I still don't see why we have to wear costumes... It's not Halloween, for Merlin's sake..." Sheila stopped in front of a shabby looking store and peered in through the window. "Hey... let's check out this place..."  
  
Hermione looked at her. "I don't know... It looks kind of-"  
  
"What? Are you scared?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No!" She grabbed Sheila's arm and practically dragged her into the shop.  
  
"Ow!... You're pinching my arm skin..." Sheila jerked her arm away from Hermione, but before she could reprimand her friend, she glanced around the shop in complete awe.  
  
"Wow..." Hermione walked over to a display, touching the fabric of the dress as she passed by. "These are incredible... Sheila c'mere... take a look at this dress."  
  
Sheila made to walk over there, but stopped when someone touched her arm. "May I help you?" Both girls jumped in surprise. Sheila turned towards the voice and saw a young woman standing behind her. She had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Sheila gasped. *'She seems familiar...'*  
  
Sheila forced herself to stop staring and shook her head. "No, we're just looking..."  
  
"How come I've never noticed this place before?" Hermione asked while pulling a bluish-green dress off a rack.  
  
  
  
The woman smiled. "My store is new. Just moved here a couple of months ago." She looked at the two girls. "Well, if you need anything just tell me. My name's Jackie."   
  
  
  
Sheila nodded. "Okay, thank you..."  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry glanced at his watch. "Merlin! Where the hell are they?"  
  
"Would you calm down... They're girls, remember... It always takes them an extra hour to shop for things..." Ron said, taking a sip of his Butterbeer.  
  
"Hey! I resent that!" Ginny smacked her brother in the back of his head, causing Butterbeer to spill down the front of his robes.  
  
"Ginny! Look what you did!"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin. "Here, Mr. Whiny Butt..." Harry laughed. "So... Who're you taking to the ball, Harry? Cho?"  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "No..."  
  
"He WANTS to take Sheila, but he's too big of a pussy to ask her." Harry glared daggers at Ron. Ron shrugged. "What? It's true..."  
  
Ginny smiled. "Well, I think it's really sweet... Don't worry, Harry, I'm sure she'll say yes."  
  
"It's cool. I'm only asking her as a friend."  
  
"Right..." Ron said, smirking.  
  
Harry looked at him. *'At least, I think I am...'* He thought, sipping on his Butterbeer.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"I'm sorry you couldn't find anything that would suit your tastes." Jackie said, smiling at them.  
  
Sheila laughed. "Oh we found plenty to our tastes, but-" She pat her pockets and shrugged. "No money!"  
  
Jackie's smile broadened. "Come back soon, okay? You two are so sweet. Next time, we'll have tea."  
  
"Sounds good to me." Hermione said. "Bye, Jackie!"  
  
"We'd better get going. We have to meet our friends." Sheila grabbed Hermione's hand and led her to the door.  
  
"Ouroboros."  
  
The girls turned. "Excuse me?" Sheila asked.  
  
"Ouroboros. That's what your necklace is."  
  
Sheila stared at her, her hand automatically seeking out the small pendant from beneath her thick layer of robes. She pulled it out and looked at it.  
  
"How did you know I-"  
  
"I saw it when you were trying on one of the dresses." Jackie paused. "It's very rare, an ouroboros. It symbolizes life, death, and rebirth and only those powerful enough can reap the benefits of its true purpose. May I ask where you got it?"  
  
Sheila stared at the small pendant in her hand. "It's a family heirloom. My mother gave it to me."  
  
"Ah, yes. The family connection. Strongest power there is..." Jackie's face took on a dreamy look for a moment before she shook her head. "But you look like a smart girl, so I'm pretty sure you already knew that."  
  
"No... I didn't..."  
  
Jackie smiled. "Well, now you do... Take care, girls." She gave them a small wave and then disappeared into the back of the shop.  
  
"Weird..." She tucked the necklace back underneath her robes.  
  
"I'll say... Come on, Ron and Harry will be furious..."  
  
Throwing a quick glance over her shoulder, Sheila and Hermione exited the shop.  
  
~*~*~  
  
  
  
Ron kicked Harry's leg underneath the table. "Ow! Ron, what was that for?" Harry bent down and massaged his shin.  
  
"She's here..." Ron said in a sing song voice.  
  
Harry looked towards the door of the Three Broomsticks and sure enough, there was Sheila, alongside Hermione, taking off their cloaks, a few dead leaves swirling around their ankles from the wind outside.  
  
"Here they come... Now's your chance... Ask her!"  
  
Harry stood, pulling out a chair for Sheila to sit in. "Oh, thank you, Harry." She sat down and grabbed his Butterbeer, taking a swig. "Mmm... That's really good..."  
  
"Can I get you lot anything?"  
  
Sheila looked up and saw a waitress standing by their table, pen in one hand, receipt book in the other. Sheila held up the bottle of Butterbeer.  
  
"Yes, more of these, please."  
  
The waitress smiled. "Coming right up." She left.  
  
Ron glared at Harry from across the table. He mouthed 'Ask her!' and Harry nodded, clearing his throat.  
  
"Uh, Sheila, could I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure, Harry, anything."  
  
"Well, as you know, the Christmas ball is coming up in like a month and we're supposed to bring dates, well we don't have to bring dates, but it would better off that we did. Oh geez, I'm babbling... Anyway, I was just wondering, since I don't have a date and you don't have one either-"  
  
"Oh, but I do."  
  
  
  
Harry stopped and stared at her. "Wh-what? Who is it?" He took a sip of his Butterbeer.  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
Everyone at the table spit out the contents of their drink, spraying Sheila in a shower of Butterbeer.  
  
"Eww..."  
  
"Malfoy?! As in Draco Malfoy?!" Ron asked, wiping his chin.  
  
Sheila shrugged. "Yeah... what's the big deal?..."  
  
"He's a Malfoy, that's what. Haven't you heard of all the terrible things his father has done?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with Draco." Sheila crossed her arms over her chest. "His FATHER did those things, not him."  
  
"Like father, like son."  
  
Sheila shook her head. "Ron, you couldn't be more wrong. I know he's been an ass to all of you since Year 1, but he's not really like that. He's a great guy and a really good friend. He's only mean to you because his father told him to be. But I swear, that's not the real Draco Malfoy. I've known him my whole life and he would NEVER hurt me... or anyone else for that matter."  
  
Ron looked at the others, who seemed unconvinced, then back at her. "I don't know..."  
  
"Listen," She gestured for them to lean towards her. "Look here." She pointed to her eyes. "Look into my eyes..." They did and she sighed. "Trust me when I say that Draco is not bad and that he would never hurt me or anyone else on purpose..." Something flickered in her eyes, whether it was the candlelight in the bar or something else, the occupants of the table couldn't explain, they just knew that at that moment, Sheila was right.  
  
They all nodded their agreement. Sheila smiled and heard someone call out 'Draco!' just as Draco himself walked up to their table.  
  
"Hey Sheila." Sheila looked at the others with pleading eyes. Everyone glanced around the table silently. They all nodded and got up, picking up their stuff.  
  
"Guys, please don't leave..." Sheila said, but the others just smiled at her.  
  
"We're not going anywhere..." Ginny said, scooting over one seat to the right, just like everyone else.  
  
Harry gestured to the chair beside him. "Here, Draco, take a seat."  
  
"Yeah, come, sit, eat, drink, discuss." Ron said, smiling at him.  
  
"Why are you guys being so nice to me?"   
  
Everyone looked at Draco in surprise. Hermione spoke up. "Well, an anonymous source told us that you weren't really the asshole you pretended to be all these years and... well... we believed her." The others nodded.  
  
Draco smiled. "Someone really said that about me?"  
  
"Yes, well I paraphrased it a bit, but yeah someone said that..."  
  
Draco hesitated, glancing at Sheila. She nodded and he reluctantly took the seat next to Harry.  
  
"Here you go, dearies. Butterbeer all around." The waitress had returned, tray in hand. She saw Draco sitting there and frowned. "Oh my, I guess I'll go retrieve another one."  
  
"No, don't even bother." Harry said, stopping her. "He can have mine, I'm not even done with my first one yet..." The waitress smiled and left.  
  
Harry handed Draco a Butterbeer. Draco accepted it. "Thanks."  
  
Harry shrugged. "No problem."  
  
"Hey, let's make a toast." Hermione said, standing up. She held up her bottle. "To good grades and world peace."  
  
Ron snorted and stood up. "Yeah, to a great Quidditch season and happiness."  
  
"To many more boyfriends for me-" Ron glared at Ginny, who in turn stuck her tongue out. "and riches beyond our imaginations."  
  
Sheila laughed. "To a successful and fun Christmas ball and good friends."  
  
"Yes, definitely to good friends." Harry said, standing up as well. He looked at Draco. "And, of course, to newly obtained friends..."  
  
Draco smiled. "Here, here!" They all clinked their bottles together, laughing. They sat back down.  
  
"Speaking of the Christmas ball... Draco, I hear you're taking Sheila." Hermione said.  
  
"Yeah... actually, Sheila, I needed to talk to you about that."  
  
Sheila looked at him. "Okay, go ahead."  
  
"Well, you know my father-" Sheila rolled her eyes in disgust. "he wants me to get in good with a pureblood family, so-"  
  
"So, you can't take me." It wasn't a question.  
  
Draco shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I have to follow my father's orders, or else-"  
  
Sheila held up a hand to silence him. "No need to explain... I understand..." She grinned. "So, who's the lucky girl?"  
  
Draco sneered. "Pansy Parkinson..."  
  
The table let out a collected 'Ooohh...'.  
  
"I'm sorry..." Sheila frowned. "Now, who am I supposed to go with?"  
  
Draco smirked and looked at Harry. "Well, I have a person in mind..."  
  
  
  
"Who?"  
  
He nudged Harry with his elbow. "What?" Harry asked, receiving a harder nudge from Draco. Realization dawned on him. "Oh... Oh!" He cleared his throat. "Single guy over here, you know..."  
  
Sheila grinned. "Why Mr. Harry Potter, are you asking little ol' me to the ball?"  
  
"Yes... yes I am." He paused. "That is, if you'll have me..."  
  
"I'd be happy to."  
  
"Awww..." Ginny wiped away a fake tear. "That's so romantic..."  
  
"No it's not.... It's disgusting." Ron said, pretending to gag.  
  
Harry threw a Butterbeer bottle-cap at him. Ron ducked, laughing.   
  
Hermione checked her watch. "We'd better go. It's getting late."  
  
Taking a final sip of Butterbeer, everyone grabbed their things and headed for the door. Draco held Sheila back.  
  
"Hey, thanks for, you know... saying those nice things about me..."  
  
"It was nothing. Anything for a friend, right?"  
  
He pulled her into a hug and she kissed his cheek. "Merlin, I don't know what I would do if you weren't here, Draco..." She whispered against his neck. "You're the only one I feel I can REALLY trust..." She gave him another peck on the cheek and turned, exiting the bar.  
  
"Hey Draco," Draco turned and saw Harry standing behind him. He raised his eyebrows in question. "Thanks."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For dropping Sheila so I could take her the ball."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Anything to get the job done, right?"  
  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Job?"  
  
"Yeah, the job..."  
  
"Oh, right, right... the job... of course... anything for the job..."  
  
Draco looked at him. "You do remember, don't you?"  
  
"Huh? Yeah, I just got so into it, I guess I forgot." Harry looked at him, guessing Draco bought his story, because the blonde just shrugged, walking out of the bar. Harry sighed and followed him.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"I want to get her, Master, I want to get her good."  
  
"Yes, the little bitch IS starting to get on my nerves..."  
  
"You should've seen her in the Three Broomsticks. Laughing and having a good old time. I even called out to him, but he completely ignored me. He casually walks over to their table and they just offer him a seat!" Pansy huffed. "I couldn't believe it! It's like they're his friends now or something! They did some stupid little toast and as they were leaving, she had the audacity to give him a hug and kiss, not only once, but twice!" Pansy clenched her hands into fists, her knuckles going white. "Merlin, I want to get her!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Pansy stopped her pacing and looked into the red eyes of her Master. "Because she's nothing but an interfering little Know-It-All AND she took my Drakie-Poo away from me..."  
  
  
  
"I thought Draco was taking you to the ball?"  
  
"He is, but only because his father told him to, not because he wants to."  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Parkinson. You shouldn't complain. This is a very good opportunity."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Think about it. She won't have as much protection around her if she goes to the ball with Harry. She'll be vulnerable."  
  
"What do you suggest I do about it?"  
  
Her Master stared at the blank wall across from him, tapping his chin in thought. "Together they are unbeatable, but separate they are weakened. You must break them apart."  
  
"How will I do that?"  
  
Her Master sneered. "I think it's about time our favorite little American's secret is revealed..."  
  
"You mean, the one about her-"  
  
"You're not as stupid as I thought you were, Parkinson." He smiled. "Tell Harry at the ball. Cause a scene. Scream. Yell. Do whatever you can to break them apart."  
  
"M-master, what if that doesn't work?"  
  
"ARE YOU DEFYING ME?!"  
  
Pansy flinched at the volume of his voice. "N-no... I'm just saying what if this plan doesn't work. Shouldn't we have a back-up plan or something?"  
  
  
  
Her Master pulled a quill from his robe. "That, my dear, is where this comes in..." He handed it to her.  
  
"What does it do?"  
  
"Never mind that. Just make sure she gets it, okay?"  
  
"Yes, Master." She kissed the hem of his robes.  
  
Her Master sighed, and waved his hand nonchalantly. "You are dismissed." She got up to leave. "And Parkinson," He called out to her. "-you better not disappoint me... You don't want to end up like your parents..." He chortled at the look of fear on her face, his laughter following her out the door as she left.  
  
He got up, whistling innocently. "You do that and I'll take care of my daughter..."  
  
~*~*~  
  
( That night....)  
  
"I can't believe the number of people that are going to be staying for Christmas break."  
  
"It's all thanks to your lovely ball."  
  
"Don't forget Ron. He helped too."  
  
"Yes, but Hermione, let's be honest with ourselves. Out of all the Prefects, which gender did the most work...?"  
  
Hermione grinned. "THE WOMEN!" They both yelled at the same time.  
  
Sheila sighed. "I can't believe tomorrow's the first day of December... This year is really flying by."  
  
"Tell me about it..." Silence passed over them.  
  
"I wonder what Harry's costume looks like."  
  
"Speaking of Harry... What's the deal with you two? When are you going to hook up?"  
  
"Hermione, you know we're just friends."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say..."  
  
Sheila laughed. "Good night, Hermione..."  
  
Hermione groaned, clicking off her bedside lamp. "'Night..."  
  
~*~*~  
  
( The next day....)  
  
Pansy stood outside the doors to the Great Hall. She was patiently waiting for Sheila and the Dork Parade (as she liked to call them) to exit so she could give Sheila her little 'present'. She heard voices approaching and flattened herself against the wall.  
  
It was them. Pansy held her breath. She waited until they were at least 2 feet away from her before saying "Diffindo". Sheila's bag ripped open, the contents spilling out.   
  
"Shit." Sheila muttered and snapped her fingers. The split seam came together, holding everything securely in. The Trio bent down to help her stuff the fallen things back into her bag. "That's weird... this thing was brand new..." Sheila shrugged. "Let's get to class."  
  
*'This is my chance...'*  
  
Pansy ran out from the shadows. "Professor Williams!" They turned to look at her. "You forgot this one!" Pansy held out a red-tipped quill. (A/N: When I say tip, I don't mean the writing tip, but the tip of the feather...)  
  
Sheila looked at her, then the quill. "I don't have quills that look like that... It must be someone else's. Sorry."  
  
"No! I saw it fall out of your bag. It's most definitely yours!"  
  
  
  
Sheila hesitated, then held out her hand. "Alright, if you say so. Thank you , Miss Parkinson."  
  
Pansy grinned. "Anytime... See you in class..." She turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall, her maniacal laughter trying to escape her thin-lipped mouth.  
  
~*~*~  
  
( A few days later....)  
  
"Sheila, do you have a quill I can borrow?"  
  
"What?! Hermione, little Miss Prefect, has come to the library unprepared! Tsk, tsk... 5 points from Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione gave her a disapproving look. "Do you have a quill or not?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your knickers in a twist..." Sheila reached in her bag and pulled out a red-tipped quill. "Here ya go. You know, you're really kind of scary when it comes to school work..."  
  
Hermione smirked. "Thank you."  
  
Sheila raised a questioning eyebrow. Hermione rolled her eyes. "For the quill..."  
  
"I knew that..."  
  
They resumed their homework in silence. That is, until Ron and Harry showed up, jabbering away about Quidditch.  
  
"Hello...?! Trying to do homework here..."  
  
  
  
Ron grinned. "That's my Hermione."  
  
Something rattled in a nearby cabinet.  
  
"What was that?" Sheila asked. "Ron?"  
  
Ron held up his hands, as if in surrender. "Wasn't me..." The cabinet rattled again. Harry walked over to it.  
  
"Harry, be careful!"  
  
Harry shook his head. "If that's what I think it is, then it's harmless..." He cautiously pulled open a drawer and out climbed-  
  
"A Dementor?! That's harmless?!" Sheila screeched.  
  
"No! Watch..." He pointed his wand at the Dementor and said "Riddikulus!" The Dementor stopped and his head fell slowly off.  
  
"A boggart!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"Yup. Totally harmless." The Trio took turns changing the boggart into as many hilarious things as they could think of.  
  
"Go ahead, Sheila, finish it off." Harry said. Sheila nodded, stepping forward. The boggart turned to her and immediately changed to the shape of a young woman. Sheila, startled, dropped her wand. She fell to her knees, her hands frantically searching the floor for it.   
  
"Sheila! What're you doing? Finish it off!"  
  
"I'm trying!"  
  
Tears were streaming down her face as she watched the young woman approach her. She raised a hand, beckoning Sheila forward. Sheila let out a choked sob.   
  
"NO! NOT AGAIN!" Sheila started crawling backward, her wand long forgotten. She drew in a panicked breath and began hyperventilating.   
  
*'She's not real... Just fight it!'*   
  
Sheila shut her eyes, squeezing them tighter as a shock ran throughout her whole body, starting with her left arm. She counted to ten. When she opened her eyes again, the boggart was gone, nothing more than a misty, gray cloud.  
  
She fell back, breathing hard, as if she just ran a million marathons. She wiped the sweat from her brow.  
  
"Merlin, Sheila, are you okay?!" The Trio rushed over to her. She nodded weakly.   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine... I just panicked..."  
  
"Sheila, you're all red! I think we should get you to the hospital wing." Ron reached for one of her arms, but she pulled it away.  
  
"I'm said I was fine!" She got to her feet, grabbing a nearby shelf for support, as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.  
  
"Who was that woman?"  
  
"None of your fucking business! Just leave me alone!" Sheila spat, sinking to her knees again.  
  
Harry kneeled down. "Come on. You're going straight to Madam Pomfrey." He grabbed her arm, but immediately let go, hissing.   
  
"What? What's the matter?" Hermione asked.  
  
"It's as if she's on fire!" He went to stand up, but was suddenly pulled forward as Sheila grabbed him roughly by the front of his shirt.  
  
"Please! Please, don't leave me!"  
  
Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."   
  
"I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey." Ron turned and ran out of the library.  
  
"She's here!" Sheila's voice dropped down to an eerie whisper. "I can feel her in my veins... Running throughout my whole body..." Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she started twitching violently.  
  
Harry put a hand to her forehead, but found that when he tried to pull away, he couldn't. It was as if he were stuck to her... A weird sensation was flowing throughout him. It felt as if he were falling, the familiar library surroundings melting away to reveal a small cottage near an open field. He saw a little girl, about 8, maybe 9, skipping down the dirt road towards him.  
  
She stopped about 6 feet away and looked at him.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Harry started. *'She can't possibly see me...'*  
  
"Who are you?" The little girl asked again. Harry saw that her brown eyes weren't looking at him, but PASSED him. Harry turned around and saw a young woman leaning against the rusted mailbox. Harry gasped. It was the same woman that the boggart turned into...  
  
The woman smiled. "My name's Vicky, darling. What's yours?"  
  
The little girl pushed her fallen glasses up the bridge of her nose. "My daddy said I'm not allowed to talk to strangers..."  
  
The woman laughed. "I'm no stranger, honey. I'm part of your family..."  
  
The little girl stared at her, unblinking. "No... You's a bad person..." The woman's fake smile faltered. "You's a really bad person and I'mma tell my daddy!"   
  
The little girl turned and ran up the lane, the woman hot on her heels. "Oh no you don't, you little bitch!"  
  
The girl cried out as the woman grabbed a hold of her black hair. "Not before I give you a present!"   
  
The woman reached into her robes and pulled out a knife. It glinted maliciously in the harsh sunlight. The little girl screamed.   
  
"Yes, scream! SCREAM! Daddy's not here to save you, is he?!" She raised the knife, grinning.  
  
"NO!" Harry stepped forward, but stopped, realizing there'd be nothing he could do anyways.  
  
The woman grabbed the girl's left arm and held it out. The little girl screamed as the knife came down and plunged into the pale flesh of her arm. The woman yanked it forcefully out, laughing.  
  
"It is done, my child! You have been marked! You cannot escape your fate!" With a small *POP*, the woman vanished.  
  
Harry looked down at the girl. She was clutching her left forearm, whimpering, blood running down the front of her dress. Harry reached out, withdrawing his hand when he heard the front door open. He looked towards the house and saw a man running down the steps. Before he could really get a chance to see who the man was, the landscape before Harry started swirling and the Hogwart's library came into focus again.  
  
"Harry? HARRY?!" Harry blinked and saw Hermione looking at him, concerned. "Are you okay? You blanked out."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay..." He looked down at Sheila. She had fainted and Harry noticed that she was clutching her left arm so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.  
  
"Oh my Merlin..."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry paid her no attention. Instead he pried Sheila's right hand off of her arm and pulled back her cloak sleeve. Hermione and Harry gasped. Her arm was covered in blood and in the very center of the crimson pool, lay a black spot, shaped exactly like-  
  
"The Dark Mark..." Harry whispered. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. "I read her mind...? That thing... That was a memory...?"  
  
Harry could do nothing but stare at the girl on the floor as he patiently awaited Ron to retrieve Madam Pomfrey.  
  
A/N: Confused? Ya should be! From now on, things (as in like time) will be moving pretty fast! The next chapter will take place on Christmas Eve so stay tuned! I think all those ( ) things were necessary because if they weren't there some people would've thought it was the same day or something...! This is my longest chapter yet! 15 typed pages! Whoo Nilly! Was it good... bad? Review please! 


	11. The Inferno

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates everyone, but with my new job and other, uh, factors, I haven't been able to work on chapters as much as I want! I'm trying REALLY hard, so please just stick with me!   
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 9:  
  
THE INFERNO  
  
Black. That's all she saw. She was engulfed by it. Drowning in it.  
  
Red. Someone turned on a light. Her fingers twitched. She could hear voices.  
  
".... not a memory... premonition..."  
  
".... but the mark...."  
  
".... not real.... manifestation...."  
  
".... going to do..."  
  
".... not much we can.... wait.... wakes up...."  
  
The voices were fading away. *'Come back!'* Her mind screamed. *'Please don't leave me!'* Someone turned off the light. She was surrounded by black again.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Something wet was hopping across her forehead. She could feel something trickling down her face. She raised her hand and wiped it away, stopping when she felt another hand close to her head. *'That's not mine...'* She put a vice-grip on the forearm and the body attached to it jumped in surprise.  
  
Her eyes shot open, the person's image blurry around the edges. It slowly swam into focus.   
  
  
  
"Hey you." It said, setting the washcloth in a bowl beside her bed.  
  
Sheila squinted. "Hi..." She croaked.  
  
"Can I have my arm back now?" It asked.  
  
Sheila furrowed her eyebrows and it motioned towards its arm. She blushed and reluctantly let its arm go.  
  
"Sorry... I thought you were someone else..."  
  
Hermione rubbed her arm. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're finally awake."  
  
Sheila wiped the sleep from her eyes, yawning. "How long have I been here?"  
  
  
  
"3-"  
  
"Hours?"  
  
"-days."  
  
"WHAT?!" Sheila hastily threw the thin, blue hospital blankets off her still sleeping legs and stumbled out of the small bed. "I can't believe this! 3 days! What happened?!"  
  
"You had a premonition in the library and fainted. Madam Pomfrey says you had a seizure."  
  
Sheila didn't seem to hear her. "I have homework and lessons! And I'm hungry! I have to go to the bathroom! I need a shower! I smell like formaldehyde! Did I die?!"  
  
"Just have a seat and breath. You don't want to pass out again, do you?"  
  
At this point, Sheila was clawing at her hospital gown, shreds of it falling to the cold floor. "I need to change! Lessons, I have lessons! What about my homework?! I'm gonna fall behind! 3 days! Oh my Merlin! What'll I do?! I can't stand it! I just can't stand it!"  
  
Sheila started hyperventilating.  
  
"Sheila!" *SMACK!* "Calm down!"  
  
Sheila reeled back, her legs tangling in the blanket, and fell backwards, her head hitting the floor. She was holding her stinging cheek, her other hand pulling at her messy hair, some of it coming out in clumps. She took a few deep breaths, but they didn't help because she started twitching.  
  
"Oh Merlin, not again! Madam Pomfrey! Come! Hurry!"  
  
Madam Pomfrey emerged from her little office and bustled over to Sheila's bed. She pulled out a small, purple vial from her apron and kneeled down to where Sheila was now writhing on the floor.  
  
"Hold her arms down."  
  
Hermione did as she was told and Madam Pomfrey took Sheila's head and placed it firmly between her knees.  
  
"What's wrong with her?"  
  
"Mild seizure."  
  
Madam Pomfrey emptied the contents of the vial into Sheila's mouth and Sheila's body immediately relaxed, her breathing returning to normal. 5 minutes passed and, satisfied, Madam Pomfrey got up.  
  
"Grab her legs and we'll put her on the bed."  
  
Hermione quietly shifted the pillows and placed the blanket over Sheila's still form, biting her lip.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey?" The nurse looked at her. "Why does she keep doing that?"  
  
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I don't know..."  
  
"Asthma.... I have asthma." Hermione and Madam Pomfrey looked at the calm girl on the bed. "I've had it ever since I was a baby."  
  
"Asthma... of course..." Said Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"What's asthma?"  
  
"Asthma occurs when one's body experiences too much stress or exertion. The lung passage closes up and it becomes difficult to breathe.  
  
"But why the seizures?"  
  
"My guess is as good as yours, but I would probably say its due to the lack of oxygen the brain receives. As a result, the brain momentarily shuts down and the body reacts."  
  
"I will be okay, won't I?" Sheila was massaging the impending bump on the back of her head.  
  
"Yes, yes. I'll give you a potion that kind of works like an inhaler. When you feel an asthma attack coming on, just drink a few drops of it. Be careful, though... There's only so much potion available to supply so I suggest you don't do anything too stressful."  
  
Sheila grinned. "Yes, ma'am." Then proceeded to pass out.  
  
~*~*~  
  
(A/N: Before you read this part, just remember that there is a special connection between these two people and that's why their able to have such fluffy moments together... So don't roll your eyes, okay? This story is, after all, half romance...)  
  
There was that blackness again, the familiar sinking feeling gripping her stomach.  
  
Ah, the relief of red, only this time there were no voices. She could feel a presence beside her, stroking her hair.  
  
Eyes shooting open, Sheila sat up in bed, shutting her eyes quickly against the overwhelming dizziness that the sudden brightness caused.  
  
It was then that she remembered the other presence in the little curtained off section of the hospital wing. She turned and, upon seeing who it was, smiled.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Hello."  
  
"How long have you been here?"  
  
"Since you came in...."  
  
"What about school?"  
  
"Don't let anyone ever tell you that the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't have a few special privileges..."  
  
Sheila smiled and took Harry's hand in hers. "Thank you."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Being there..."  
  
Harry shrugged. "What're friends for?"  
  
She quirked an eyebrow, withdrawing her hand from his. "Friends?..."  
  
"You know what I meant..." He said, rolling his eyes.  
  
"No... no, I didn't... tell me..."  
  
He sighed. "I'm not gonna bore you with all the details, so here goes. I like you... a lot... and you don't feel the same way... simple as that."  
  
"Good. You better like me because-"  
  
"A little conceited, aren't we?"  
  
She playfully slapped his arm. "Shut up. You didn't let me finished. I meant you better like me because..." She smiled, meeting his gaze with her own. "Because I like you too..."  
  
His jaw nearly hit the floor and, laughing, she gently pushed it closed with her hand. He leaned into her touch.  
  
"Your hand is so small..."  
  
She withdrew her hand. "It is not."  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
She huffed. "Let me see yours."  
  
He held up his hand and she held hers against his, her fingers only reaching a centimeter below his fingertips. He extracted his hand.  
  
"Told ya..."  
  
Sheila was unperturbed. "Lemme see your hand again..."  
  
Harry jumped up. "No." He put his arms in the air.  
  
"Ugh, cheater!" Sheila got out of her bed and started hopping around in front of him, trying to capture at least one of his out-of-reach hands. "Lemme see your hand..."  
  
"No." He grinned. "Besides, you look so cute jumping around like that.... Like a wittle bunny wabbit... " He teased.  
  
"Just let me see!"  
  
He shook his head and stood on the bed.  
  
"Hey! No fair!" She climbed on the bed as well.   
  
"Would you let it go? We already established that your hands were small..."  
  
"No, YOU established that, not me. Now let me see your hand!" She lunged for his arm, clinging to the elbow and pulled... hard. They both lost their footing and tumbled out of the bed, Sheila's nightshirt catching a screw in the side, ripping it in half. They hit the floor with a dull *THUD*.   
  
"Ow..." Harry sat up on one elbow, rubbing his head. He looked down at Sheila and saw that she was laughing. "What?"  
  
"You... should've... seen... your... face..." She said between laughs.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Think that's funny, huh?" Sheila nodded. "Well, this, this is funnier." He started tickling her and she shrieked with a new set of giggles.  
  
"S-stop! Please! I can't breathe! STOP!!!" She clutched at her chest and began to claw at the collar of her shirt.   
  
"Oh shit! What do I do?!"  
  
She coughed and pointed to the metal tray sitting on her night table. "P-purple... vial..."  
  
He quickly grabbed the potion and put a few drops in her mouth. The liquid instantly worked and he let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
Sheila grinned. "You should've seen your face..." His face softened. "Now... let me see your hand."  
  
He looked down at his hand. "I don't know... You might snap it off or something..."  
  
  
  
Sheila guffawed. "I will not!" She felt her lungs constrict and steadied her breath, placing a hand on his knee. "I won't hurt you... I promise..."  
  
He smiled and reluctantly surrendered his hand to hers. She placed her palm against his.  
  
"See, I told you. Your hands are too small..."  
  
"No, watch." She turned her hand slightly to the right and interlaced her fingers with his. "Not too small to do that, now is it..."  
  
He smirked. "No. I guess not..."  
  
  
  
"They're also not too small to do this..." She started tickling him and he jumped back in surprise. She stopped after a few moments. "Revenge is so sweet..."  
  
He grabbed her free hand and held it to his chest. "Cheater..."  
  
She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. He laughed, letting go off her hand, and brushed his across her exposed stomach. He chortled when he felt her shy away from his touch.   
  
"I won't hurt you... I promise..." Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he ran his fingers across her stomach again, but this time she didn't move away. He rested his hand on her hip, his thumb circling around her bellybutton.  
  
"Now what?" She asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, we both feel the same way about each other so going back to being friends would be pretty pointless..."  
  
Harry nodded his agreement. "I see..." He looked into her eyes. "Now what?..." He was leaning closer and closer to her, until his forehead came to rest on hers.  
  
"Hmm..." She furrowed her eyebrows, as if she were deep in thought, then a grin spread across her face. "I remember that we were in a similar position not too long ago..."  
  
"Were we now?"  
  
"Yup. And I also remember it went a little something like this..." She brushed her lips softly against his.  
  
He scrunched up his nose. "Nah, I remember it went like this..." With that, he kissed her.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Oi, Harry, Sheila! Hogsmeade weekend!"  
  
Sheila and Harry entered the common room hand in hand. They were officially a "couple" since the kiss in the hospital wing 3 weeks ago.  
  
"Great. Now I can buy my dress for the Christmas ball." Sheila said, taking a seat beside Ron and Hermione, Harry perched on the armrest.  
  
"We can get ours together, Sheila. My parents sent me money last week, so now I'll be able to afford a gown from Jackie's store."  
  
Sheila nodded. With the aid of the Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak, Sheila and Hermione were able to visit Jackie at least 6 times in the past 3 weeks. After all, Jackie did promise them tea... Just kidding. There was more to it then that. Jackie was like the 3rd Musketeer. A womanly figure they were both able to look up to and get advice from.  
  
"She's such a sweetheart. Almost like a sister."  
  
Hermione smiled. "She reminds me of my mum."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't start talking about her, please. Merlin knows, I love the girl, but hearing repeats of the dreaded girly talks is enough to make any wizard sick..."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Fine, fine. We'll stop..."  
  
"Good. 'Night everyone."  
  
They all groaned and retreated to their bedrooms.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Oh my Merlin! It's perfect!" Hermione stepped out of the dressing room and spun around, the rich bluish-green velvet gown swirling around her. "I could be a peacock for the ball."  
  
Sheila set down the broach she was looking at and glanced at her friend. She smiled. "It is perfect... seeing as how your nose resembles a beak and all..."  
  
"Ha ha..."  
  
"Okay, okay. Enough messing around. Go. Change. Buy. Then we leave. We have to meet the boys."  
  
"Sheila, you should talk in cave-man more often." Jackie emerged from the back of the shop, teacup in hand. "I think Hermione understands it better."  
  
"What is it 'Pick on Hermione Day' or something?"   
  
Jackie winked at Sheila. "Well, if you insist..."   
  
Hermione came out of the dressing room glaring at Sheila. Sheila smiled sweetly at her.  
  
"Don't give me that smile. I'll get you back..." She paid for her dress and they both gave Jackie a hug.  
  
"You two are going to look smashing at the ball."  
  
"Well it's all thanks to your superb styling and design."  
  
Jackie smiled. "Come back and visit me again, okay?"  
  
"We will!" Hermione and Sheila chorused together while exiting the shop.  
  
Jackie watched them through the store's front window. She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. She smiled as the two laughing girls sidestepped a cloaked man.  
  
"My little girl's all grown up..."  
  
She was brought out of her reverie when the small bell on her shop door sounded and a cloaked man entered, wand raised.   
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Sorry we're late. Shopping took longer than we thought."  
  
The two teenage girls plunked themselves in the booth seats next to their respective boyfriends.  
  
"Sure, sure. Gossiping is more like it..."  
  
"Ron, don't attack us." Hermione tossed her long curly hair over her shoulder. "Besides, you guys always talk about Quidditch..."  
  
"But that's different. It's a- a guy thing..."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't sound too convincing, Ronald."  
  
Sheila leaned towards Harry. "Uh-oh... I smell a fight coming on..."  
  
Harry grinned. "In three..."  
  
"Two..."  
  
"One..."  
  
*BOOM!*  
  
Everyone grew quiet. Sheila gazed around the restaurant and saw some people getting up and walking to the doors.  
  
"What was that?" She asked.  
  
Sheila and the Trio looked at each other before getting up and heading for the Three Broomsticks main doors. They could hear people screaming and, as they walked out onto the street, were bombarded by a crowd of people running by.  
  
"Excuse me! What's going on?" Harry tried, but failed, to get the attention of a nearby person. Shaking his head, he reached for Sheila's hand, but found that she wasn't there. He looked down and saw her on her knees, her eyes fixed on something down the street. He turned his head in the direction of her gaze and gasped.  
  
"Oh God..."  
  
Ron and Hermione turned in that direction also and Hermione cried out.  
  
"JACKIE!"  
  
Sheila sat silently on the ground, shaking, the flames that swallowed Jackie's dress shop glimmering on the steady stream on her face in a kind of reflective taunt dancing around in her tears.  
  
A/N: There! Another chapter done! So sorry it took so long! Work, you know how that goes... Well, I'll admit, I had no idea where this chapter was going, where it ended up or what's going to continue from here... The title to this chapter is also double-sided. You know the obvious fire (duh) and the "fire" that burns inside Sheila and Harry as they get closer... but, hey, stick with it, okay? REVIEW PLEASE!   
  
P.S. Tomorrow's my day off, so I'm pretty sure I'll post more chapters since I have no plans! 


	12. Bliss In Ignorance

A/N: Finally! I know that's what you all are thinking! Sorry it took so long, but here it is! This chapter just focuses on the aftermath. Enjoy and don't forget to review!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 10:  
  
BLISS IN IGNORANCE  
  
She wasn't allowed to attend the funeral. Dumbledore said he couldn't authorize it since she had already missed so many days for being in the hospital. So, she just watched it from her classroom window.  
  
She could barely make out the small congregation as the snow fell outside. The people were huddled around the glossed oak coffin, some holding candles, others blood- red roses. She saw the preacher touch his forehead, then chest, left shoulder, then right shoulder. The funeral-goers did the same and, closing her eyes, so did she.  
  
"Ashes to ashes..."  
  
A few tears fell down her cheeks and she opened her eyes to see that they had already lowered the coffin into the ground. Three men were shoveling dirt into the grave and the congregation was slowly shuffling away. More tears fell, landing on the newspaper clipping sitting in her lap.  
  
She looked down at the smiling picture of Jackie, who was running around in front of her newly bought shop, gesturing to a sign that said 'Grand Opening!' The headline overcrowded the minute photo.  
  
"LOCAL HOGSMEADE SHOPKEEPER DIES IN FIRE"  
  
Sheila scanned the article, a couple of phrases jumping out at her.  
  
'...Cause of fire unknown... shop burnt to the ground... body found in basement... seemed to be trapped... hooded figure seen lurking outside shop just before the accident...'   
  
Something tugged at Sheila's heart and she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. She blinked them back. *'Why do I care? She was just a shopkeeper.'* She looked at the picture again, sighing. *'But she felt so familiar...'*  
  
"She looks just like you, Sheila, only an older version."  
  
Sheila jumped at the voice and turned away from the window to see Harry standing in the classroom's doorway. He walked over to her.  
  
"I don't see why that matters..." She said.  
  
He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. She leaned back, sighing.  
  
"Don't beat yourself up, okay? There was nothing anyone could do."  
  
"I know, but Hermione and I were there like 10 minutes before it happened. Maybe if we just stayed a bit longer..."  
  
He turned her around and stared at her. She blinked and lowered her head away from his piercing green eyes.   
  
"Look at me." He gently lifted her head up. "It's not your fault. It was an accident. There was nothing no one, not even you, could do about it, alright?"  
  
She sighed. "Alright..." She mumbled.  
  
"Come on. Have some fun."  
  
"I'm not going to just forget about it, Harry."  
  
"I didn't say that. I just don't think that you should dwell too much on it, that's all."  
  
"I knew you wouldn't understand..."  
  
Harry's forehead creased with confusion. "What do you mean by that?"  
  
She stepped away from him and the window. "No, I didn't know her for that long, but in that one month I felt so... close to her. We had one of those rare, genuine connections, ya know. It felt really familiar. Like we knew each other in a past life or something... I-I..."  
  
"You what?"  
  
She looked at him. "I m-miss her..." She sobbed. Her knees buckled and he caught her, bringing the couple to their knees. He hugged her, stroking her hair, as she cried into his neck.  
  
"Ssshh... Let it out... There you go..."  
  
  
  
20 minutes passed and her sobs slowly turned to sniffles. She pulled away from him, wiping her face. "At least she's in a better place now..." Sheila snapped her fingers and a Kleenex appeared in her hand.  
  
"Feeling better?"  
  
She blew her nose.  
  
"I take that as a yes..."  
  
She gave him a small smile and he lightly clapped her on the back, pulling her closer.  
  
"Cheer up, old chap. It's the start of Christmas vacation and I refuse to see my girlfriend so down..."  
  
She looked at him. "What did you say?"  
  
"Cheer up, old chap?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, after that."  
  
"The part about Christmas vacation?"  
  
"The thing about being your girlfriend."  
  
"My girlfriend?"  
  
"Yes, that. Say it again."  
  
He held her hands in his own. "My girlfriend..."  
  
She smiled. "I like the sound of that..."  
  
"Me too."  
  
They stared at each other for a moment before Harry stood, bringing her up as well.   
  
  
  
"Come on. Let's go down and get some breakfast before Ron eats all the powdered donuts."  
  
"Mmm... my favorite."  
  
  
  
"I know."  
  
Sheila picked up the newspaper clipping and looked at it. "Hold on..." She kissed the smiling picture of Jackie, then tore it into tiny shreds. Unlocking a window, she held her hand open and let the chilled wind carry the newspaper bits away.  
  
She caught sight of Jackie's fresh grave sitting alone atop the tiny hill. The pearly white headstone looked gray against the newly fallen snow. Sheila smiled.  
  
"Goodbye, Jackie."  
  
She turned away from the window, grabbing Harry's hand as she went, and walked out of her classroom, locking the door behind them.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry handed Sheila a piece of toast. She took it quietly, not meeting the eyes of the people staring at her.   
  
"You gotta eat, sweetie."  
  
She sighed and took a bite out of the bread, crumbs tumbling down the front of her robes.   
  
"Happy?" She threw the toast down, jumping when Ron placed a hand on her arm.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Sheila pulled her arm away and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired.... Didn't get much sleep last night..." She glanced at Hermione, who frowned. Sheila stood up. "You know what... I think I'm gonna go to the library... Do a little last minute studying... Big Herbology test today..."  
  
"Wait! What about breakfast?" Hermione asked.  
  
Sheila grabbed a donut, grinning, some white powder falling to the table. "Problem solved." She took a bite out of it. "See ya." She swung her school bag onto her shoulder and hastily left, the Trio looking after her.  
  
~*~*~   
  
*A FEW DAYS LATER*  
  
"Goodness, I think this dress shrank a little since I bought it."  
  
  
  
"Let me see it, please." Ron was sitting on Hermione's bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine.  
  
"Nope, it's going to be a surprise. You'll just have to wait until Christmas night like everyone else."  
  
"But I'm your boyfriend..." He whined.  
  
Hermione stepped out of the Prefect bathroom, pulling a tank top on. "That's beside the point. You should learn to be more tolerant." She walked over to her vanity table and started brushing her hair.   
  
"Pff... Tolerate this, bitch..."  
  
*THUD*   
  
She gasped, dropping her brush and turned to see one of her pillows lying at her feet, Ron kneeling on her bed, laughing.   
  
"Hey now, that's wasn't necessary..." Hermione threw the pillow back, hitting him in the face. "Whore..."  
  
Ron gaped at her, then got up, pillow in hand. "That's it..."  
  
Hermione looked at him, grabbing the pillow off the ground. "Bring it on..."  
  
*WHACK*   
  
Hermione got him in the stomach. Ron doubled over, coughing, but he retaliated by getting Hermione's leg, then her butt. Hermione stumbled forward.  
  
"Hey!" She swung her pillow and Ron ducked, hearing a crash behind him. He turned and almost cried out when he saw the picture of Sheila and her father standing outside the Audubon Zoo, on the floor, the frame completely shattered.  
  
"Oh shit!"   
  
"Sshhh! Do you want to wake her?!" They both turned to look at Sheila. She was faced away from them, her chest slowly rising and falling as she slept soundlessly.   
  
"She's gonna kill me if she finds it! That's the only picture of her dad she has!" She whispered.  
  
"It's okay, Hermione. No damage done to the picture, just a broken frame." He whispered back.  
  
  
  
Ron picked it up, snapping his fingers. The glass shards flew back into place and he set the fixed picture frame on Sheila's night table. Hermione walked over to the stand and looked at the picture in his hand.  
  
"Her father was very handsome."   
  
Ron threw her a look, but nodded. "He was." He cocked his head to one side. "He looks exactly like that guy in Harry's parent's wedding photo."  
  
"Does he?" Hermione shrugged. "Which one?"  
  
"Uh, the best man."  
  
"Well, it can't be the same man. That guy was Sirius Black and he definitely couldn't be Sheila's father..." They looked at each other. "Right...?"  
  
Ron handed her the picture. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To get Harry's photo album."  
  
He left and Hermione sat, staring at the man in the photo. He was smiling, clutching the younger version of Sheila closer to him. She laughed and threw her arms around his waist, hugging him. Then the actions started all over again. Hermione squinted.   
  
"That's odd..."  
  
"What is?" Ron returned, a large, yellowish book under his arm.  
  
"Take a look at this." Ron stared at the photo. "Doesn't it look like the man is gesturing to someone outside the picture?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "Maybe he's talking to the person taking the picture." He sat down beside her and opened the album. He only had to flip through a few moldy pages before he found the picture of Harry's parents on their wedding day.  
  
"Look there he is. Sirius."  
  
Hermione gasped, holding Sheila's picture next to it. "They're identical."  
  
"It could just be a coincidence."  
  
She shook her head. "This is no coincidence, Ron." She threw the photo down.  
  
"Hey, what's this...?" Ron picked up the picture and turned it over.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look." He unfolded a crease, dropping the photo when it started glowing. It stopped abruptly and they both peered down at it.   
  
It was the same as last time, except when the younger Sheila threw her arms around her father's waist, the actions didn't repeat. Instead, they kept going. The man gestured to someone and another young man walked up next to them. Sheila's father turned his head towards the young blonde and, still laughing, kissed him. The younger Sheila didn't seem to notice their actions.  
  
"Oh, ew..."  
  
"Ron, still think this is a coincidence?"  
  
"Uh, possibly... Why?"  
  
  
  
Hermione groaned. "Don't you recognize the other man?"  
  
"No... Should I?"  
  
She pointed to a different man in the wedding picture, then back at the man kissing Sheila's father.  
  
"They're identical too. Get it now?"  
  
Realization dawned on Ron's face. "Oh...! He's- Wha- Wait, this would mean that Sheila's dad is... Ugh, what the hell?!"  
  
Hermione smiled a little at his reaction. "Exactly, Ron. What the hell?"  
  
Ron sighed. "You reckon we should tell Sheila about this?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, not yet..."  
  
"How is she holding up anyway?"  
  
"She's great, I suppose, but sometimes, at night, I can hear her crying..."  
  
"But it's been almost a week since Jackie died. You think she'd be over it by now. Ya know, moving on."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Sheila felt that there was something more between them..." She sighed, getting up, and retreated to her bed, Ron following suit.  
  
"Good night, Hermione."  
  
Hermione looked over at Sheila's bed to see that her friend had shifted her position a little, but was still faced away. She sighed, closing her eyes. "Good night."  
  
Sheila let out the breath she was holding, and wiped away the tears. Her stomach gave a lurch as she dry heaved, the world feeling as if it were slowly crashing down around her.  
  
*'Just what in bloody hell IS going on...?'*   
  
~*~*~  
  
Voldemort set the rusted mirror down, the image of Sheila crying in bed slowly disappearing from the moldy surface.  
  
"I see the Mudblood and Weasel aren't so stupid after all." He snickered. "Don't worry, my precious granddaughter, all will be revealed in due time..."  
  
He looked over to where Pansy was huddled in the corner, whimpering, and nursing her bloody cheek. Voldemort grinned.  
  
"The big night's almost here, eh, Pansy?"  
  
She let out a squeak, but slowly nodded her head.  
  
"Don't fuck it up for me or you'll end up with far worse than a scratched cheek, got it?"  
  
"Y-yes, Master..."  
  
"Excellent. Now fetch me some water. I'm a bit parched."  
  
Pansy swiftly got up and practically ran out of the chamber. Voldemort chuckled, as Victoria stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"Darling, do you really think we should do it so soon?"  
  
"Yes, I do. She is half broken, we will just have to break her the rest of the way. When Pansy tells her the good news about her father, she will be ours."  
  
"Let us just hope that the clumsy bitch doesn't fail us." As if to prove her point, Pansy came skittering into the room, drops of water spilling from the cup she was holding in her hand.  
  
Voldemort sneered. "Yes, let us hope..."  
  
A/N: Okay, just how bad did it suck? Hmm... who's the other guy in the picture? You'll find out, not next chapter but the one after that, I think... I think my timing's a little off as far as how many days have gone by since Jackie died... eh, oh well! Hope you guys liked it! Please REVIEW! 


	13. All Is Well?

A/N: Look another chapter! This one focuses on Sheila and Harry's relationship! Be forewarned! Sex ahead! I don't go into any extreme details, but still, ya know, some people don't like it! Enjoy!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 11:  
  
ALL IS WELL...?  
  
*A WEEK LATER*  
  
"Albus, I think she has the right to know."  
  
Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped together in his lap. "I know, Minerva, but it's not like we can spring it on her out of nowhere. We must wait until she is able to deal with it mentally."  
  
"I have never been one to misjudge your actions and I know you have the best intentions in mind, but if we don't tell her soon, someone else will."  
  
"No. Soon is still too soon. We must be patient."  
  
McGonagall stood from where she was sitting in the leather chair, slamming a fist on his desktop. "Oh, fuck patience! This is a matter of survival we're talking about here. She's a very intelligent girl, Albus. If she finds out on her own, she'll never forgive us. She'll feel betrayed, I know it. Then what'll we do? Sit around and wait to be killed by that bastard?!"  
  
"My dear Minerva, please sit." McGonagall hesitated, but sat back down. "Believe me when I say that no one would love to tell her more than me. I agree in saying that she is an intelligent girl, but she's also fragile. She is still haunted by the memory of her abandonment."  
  
"But she wasn't ab-"  
  
"I know. Let me finish. She's still suffering. And now that Jackie is gone, her healing wounds have been reopened. There isn't a weekly meeting that goes by that she doesn't cry over something that's happened to her. She has yet to deal with the grief. If we tell her now, it'll be a far worse thing than if someone else were to tell her."  
  
McGonagall nodded her understanding. "I see... She wasn't even allowed to go to the funeral for Pete's sake..."  
  
"Minerva, you know damn well why she wasn't allowed. We can't go on recklessly like this or major mistakes will be made. I say we just lend her a shoulder to cry on, give her a helping hand, let her Protector do his job and make sure that no one interferes with the initial plan. See where it all goes."  
  
"Right. I suppose that's better than nothing at all."  
  
"Yes, yes." Dumbledore stood and shrugged his midnight blue cloak on. "Shall we? I'm starved."  
  
McGonagall made as if she were about to say something more, but shook her head and closed the door behind them, a look of indecision sketched across her face.  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
*THE NEXT DAY/ CHRISTMAS EVE*  
  
Sheila fell onto her bed, sighing happily. Hermione looked up from her book.  
  
"So how was your walk with Harry?"  
  
Sheila sighed again. "I was wonderful..."  
  
"Oooh..." Hermione set her quill down and walked over to Sheila's bed and sat down next to Sheila. "So, what happened?"  
  
"Actually... nothing..."  
  
"Why are you so happy then?"  
  
"He's just so... perfect... He makes me feel so good, Hermione. And when we kiss, all my problems just melt away. I feel so safe in his arms, like nothing can harm me. He's a great listener. And we have SO much in common. It's crazy..." She looked at Hermione, who was grinning. "What?"  
  
"I know that look."  
  
"Look? What look?"  
  
"The look of love..."  
  
"Who? Me?"  
  
"I wouldn't doubt it."  
  
Sheila contemplated this, a grin spreading across her face. "You think?"  
  
"I don't think, I know. I had that same goofy grin on my face too, ya know. I still do."  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"You love him?"  
  
"With all my heart."  
  
Sheila giggled. "Maybe, just maybe, you're right... But we've only been going out for a month."  
  
Hermoine shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It could be a month, 2 years, one day, but when you're struck with the love bug, well you're... uh... there ya go."  
  
They heard a hiss in the bathroom and Crookshanks ran inside their bedroom, a bloody Ron running after him.   
  
"You fucking cat! I'm gonna kill you!"  
  
Hermione jumped up. "Ron, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"I'm trying to catch this furball, Hermione, so I can send it to it's grave!" Crookshanks ran out of the room at full speed, Ron following close behind.  
  
"Oh no you don't, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione chased after them, leaving a very amused, yet content Sheila behind.  
  
~*~*~  
  
*THAT NIGHT*  
  
  
  
Harry awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his bedroom door. He fumbled for his glasses, putting them on as he rolled out of his bed. The person knocked again, only louder this time. Harry groaned.  
  
"I'm coming... I'm coming..."  
  
He opened his door to find Sheila on the other side, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her hair messed up. She was holding a red blanket in one hand and gripping a stuffed, black dog in the other. He grinned. *'She's so cute...'*  
  
He cleared his throat. "Yes, ma'am. May I help you?"  
  
Sheila yawned. "Can I crash in your room tonight?"   
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Ron and Hermione had a huge fight earlier and now their 'talking things out', if ya know what I mean."  
  
"No, I don't. Sorry." He made to close the door, but Sheila stopped him, giving him a warning look.  
  
"It's 3 in the morning, Harry. I'm tired and on the verge of committing a murder, so DON'T test me."  
  
"Murder, eh?" Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Can I help? Anyone I know?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes, you do. His name is Harry Potter and aside from escaping Lord Voldemort numerous times, he's one of the luckiest men on earth."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because he's going out with me." She spat. "Now can I sleep with you or not?"  
  
Harry raised his hands. "Whoa.... Now, why would you want to go and kill him for? Besides, I don't think my girlfriend would approve. She's a bit of a hothead and likes to threaten people."  
  
Sheila sighed, rubbing her temples. "Well I spoke to her and she said that she could give a flying fuck if I slept with you or not."  
  
Harry shook his head, unconvinced. "Hmm... I don't think so... What would your boyfriend say?"  
  
Sheila was now fully awake. She looked at him and grinned. "What he doesn't know, won't hurt him..."  
  
"Ah, see, now your talking my kind of language."  
  
"So, that's a yes?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Ugh, fine, you selfish nutter." She started to walk away. "I'll go sleep in the common room on one of those old, lumpy couches and wake up with a back ache and a crick in my neck..." She came to an abrupt stop when Harry stepped on the end of her trailing blanket.  
  
"I was kidding. Come in. I guess you can have the privilege of sleeping with the Boy-Who-Lived tonight."  
  
Sheila smiled and kissed him. "I knew you couldn't resist..."   
  
"How could I? You look so sexy in you're little bunny slippers..."  
  
She looked down and blushed. "Oh yeah." She rolled her eyes. "And you're boxers with the dancing fruit on them really turn me on..." This time, he blushed.  
  
Sheila laughed and hopped into his bed, pulling his comforter over the both of them. He lay down next to her, one arm beneath her neck, the other resting on her stomach.  
  
"What would your boyfriend say about this position?"  
  
Sheila snuggled closer to him, her cheek placed on his steadily rising and falling chest. "I don't think he'd want to hear about it. He gets jealous easily..."  
  
"I do not!" He stopped, clearing his throat. "I mean, I don't think he would mind. He might even enjoy it."  
  
"Maybe." Sheila paused. "What about your girlfriend? Would she like it?"  
  
"I don't know. I hope so because I do and would love to try it out on her some time. You're a girl. You think she'd like it?"  
  
Sheila grinned, closing her eyes. "I think she'd love it..." She turned her head and kissed his bare chest. Harry shuddered at the touch. She grinned against his skin, her trail of kisses leading all the way up to his neck. She nuzzled the spot just below his ear with the tip of her nose.   
  
"Merlin, I love you..."  
  
"Wha-? What?"  
  
Sheila stiffened. "Nothing. I said nothing."  
  
"You said you loved me, didn't you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well do you?"  
  
"Maybe..."  
  
  
  
"Yes or no?"  
  
Sheila sighed. "Fine, if you must badger me... I think I do." She paused. "Yes, I do. I love you."  
  
Harry took in a deep breath, smiling. "I love you too."  
  
"Really?"  
  
He kissed her, his hand slipping beneath the waist band of her pajama bottoms as it slowly made its way to what he believed was rightfully his. Sheila gasped.  
  
"What're you doing?"  
  
"Nothing..." He began to move his index finger in small circles. Sheila quietly moaned.  
  
"St-op. Stop." He ceased his actions, frowning. It's not like they haven't done stuff like this before...  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing, it's just..."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "I- I'm sorry. I forgot." He made to withdraw his hand, but Sheila stopped him.  
  
"No. It's just that I believe that every time people have sex, they give a piece of themselves to the other person." She bit her lip. "But before I have sex for the first time, I want to give that special someone the biggest piece of me..."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
Sheila smiled. "My heart..."  
  
"Oh... but it's not like we're gonna have sex." He looked at her, her eyes smiling brightly back. "Are we...?"  
  
Sheila lifted her head a little, her lips resting on his. She lightly gave each part of his mouth a peck. Left, right, middle. Left, right, middle, before he started responding to her. Her soft tongue flicked out, licking the bottom of his mouth. He sighed, opening his mouth as well, his tongue venturing out and meeting hers.  
  
She rolled over to where she was now on top of him, her petite body straddling his hips. Sheila pulled away from him. He let out a tiny whimper, yearning for the touch of her lips on his.  
  
"Sshh..." She placed a finger to his lips and he lightly kissed it. She smiled. He reached for the bottom of her shirt and gently pulled it over her head, throwing it to the side as soon as he got it off.  
  
Shifting his position, he sat up a little more. He quietly brushed away a few tendrils of hair from her face and eyes locked with hers, lowered his head to kiss the top of each bare breast. She relaxed beneath his touch and leaned back, Harry's arms the only thing holding her up. He shifted, folding his legs beneath himself and lowered her back onto the bed.  
  
Sheila smiled up at him as he removed her pajama bottoms, bit by bit, kissing each part of newly exposed leg skin. He finally got them off and threw them next to her shirt.  
  
"Hey... that's not fair..." She reached for the waist band of his boxers and slid her hands inside, tenderly grasping his... (A/N: Well *blush* you know...) Harry moaned. She started moving her hand up and down slowly.   
  
"As much as I hate to do this because it feels so good..." He moaned again. "You're gonna have to stop or else I'm not gonna be able to..."  
  
Sheila blushed. "I'm sorry..." She withdrew her hand, but not before giving him another light squeeze.  
  
He grinned. "It's okay."  
  
She reached up again, only this time when she placed her hands inside his boxers, she took them off, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Harry shivered as the cold air licked at his body.  
  
"You're turn..." He slipped a finger beneath the elastic of her pink underwear. She lifted her hips and he removed them as well, kissing the top of her hip bone.  
  
She giggled. "That tickles."  
  
He quickly (but not too fast, as not to scare her) positioned himself above her, his arms supporting most of his weight. He looked down at her and sighed. Her hair was fanned out around her, her cheeks tinged with a bit of pink. The excitement and nervousness reflecting from her eyes.  
  
  
  
"Are you sure...? I don't want to do anything you're not ready for..." He, of course, was ready. Ready to break and seal the barrier that would bind them together and make them one. (A/N: That sounded very cheesy...)  
  
Sheila ran a hand through his hair, where it came to rest on his cheek, her thumb brushing across his lips. "Do me a favor, dollface."  
  
He kissed her thumb lightly, then turned his head and kissed her palm.   
  
"What's that?" He mumbled. She made an indistinguishable noise and Harry paused to look at her. He saw that a few tears escaped her eyes. He held her hand down as she tried to wipe them away.   
  
"Leave them. They show that you're scared. And that's a good thing." He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Now, what of this favor?"  
  
She swallowed, the lump in her throat growing smaller as she looked into his unblinking green eyes.   
  
"Don't break my heart, okay...?"   
  
Harry looked slightly taken aback, then softly smiled. "As long as you don't break mine..."  
  
"I would never..."  
  
He kissed her forehead. "And neither will I..."  
  
A/N: OH MY! I can't believe I just did that! If that whole scene seems kind of stupid, I'm sorry! I don't have any experience with stuff like that... at least, not yet, anyway... Please REVIEW! 


	14. ChocolateCovered Strawberries

A/N: Hello again! I started writing this chapter on my birthday, so think of it as kind of a present to YOU! Hehe... So, yeah. Enjoy and, hopefully, happy readings!  
  
LET GO  
  
CHAPTER 12:  
  
CHOCOLATE-COVERED STRAWBERRIES  
  
  
  
*(Christmas Day)*  
  
Harry's head fell heavily onto her shoulder (which was kind of ironic because he was feeling lightheaded with ecstasy.) . He kissed her collarbone, then the place where the neck meets the shoulder, traveling upward until his lips fell upon hers. He pulled back after a few moments, his right hand cupping her cheek, and gazed down at her, into her, emerald green eyes happily greeting chocolate brown.   
  
Sheila reached up and brushed a few strands of his hair away from his face. Both their breathing was still irregular and their bodies were lightly glistening with the sweat of lovemaking. She smiled, delicately throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him closer in a small hug.  
  
"I love you." She whispered in his ear. When he failed to respond a moment or two later, she turned his head towards her and saw that he was crying. "Harry, what's wrong?"  
  
Harry let out a small laugh and quickly wiped away his tears. "Nothing, I promise."  
  
*'Pff... Nothing my ass.'* Harry thought. It's not that he didn't want to tell her, it's just he couldn't figure out how. I mean, how could he tell her that he loved the way her whole body seemed to smell of chocolate-covered strawberries? She might think he was weird or something. Had some freaky fetish with sniffing people...  
  
He didn't know why, but that one scent seemed to spark a newly found passion in him. Yeah, sure, the other girls he bedded smelled good too, but Sheila was different. She was always different...  
  
Harry leaned down, pressing his nose into her hair, and deeply inhaled, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sweet scent overpowered his nostrils.  
  
Oh Merlin, how he loved it. Chocolate-covered strawberries. It was too perfect. An aphrodisiac of the fragrant kind, if you insist on labeling it. He had to stop himself or else he'd ravish her for the 6th, maybe 7th time. (Harry really didn't know. He lost count after the 3rd.)  
  
It seemed to describe her, uh, seduction/ lovemaking very well. The way she moaned his name after every climax was rich and delicate, like foreign chocolate (the good kind). It seemed to melt in his ears and put a smile on his face.  
  
Her very essence was the strawberry. Sweet and supple. Ripe. Ready for the picking. She'd be washed in his kisses and eaten (NOT like that, mind you.) quickly before the pleasant taste went away. And he did just that. Kissed every part of her body his lips could reach. He relished the fact that she responded to his every touch, every whispered sigh, every emotion, so perfectly.  
  
He simply loved everything about her. The way she cuddled him afterwards. The way her hands carefully explored his body and found sensitive (but in a good way) areas he didn't even know he had.   
  
Even the way she acted during intercourse would be considered innocent. Her animalistic lust when she ran her manicured nails across his back over and over again, were always massaged gently away, almost as if she were apologizing for hurting him, not that Harry minded. He seemed to be driven by it.   
  
He strived to make her happy, the same way she did to him. Whenever she would wrap her long legs around him, he just drove further and further in, occasionally letting out a frustrated grunt because yeah, he was close to her, but it just didn't seem to be close enough.  
  
But it seemed to satisfy her, she was never one to lie, and to Harry, that was the best feeling in the world. Making her happy. Loving someone and them loving you back. Knowing that you, no matter how selfish or pure or funny or even asshole-ish you are, could make someone smile a genuine smile just by being in the same room, was definitely the greatest feeling in the world, especially if they did the same to you...  
  
And that's exactly what Sheila did to him, with or without her own knowledge of it.  
  
Harry blinked, realizing that he had been staring at her for far too long because she was now giving him a very confused look, her brows furrowed and her mouth open as if she were about to say something.  
  
Finally, she did. "What?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Nothing."  
  
"Then why are you just staring at me like that?"  
  
"Because you're beautiful."  
  
"No." She said, firmly. "No more, okay?"  
  
Harry laughed. "What?"  
  
"Oh, like you don't know. Harry, I think 50 gazillion times is enough, especially for me."  
  
"Okay, okay.... But you are beautiful."  
  
"Thank you. And you, you are very handsome."  
  
"I know I am."  
  
Sheila playfully slapped his arm, letting out a tiny moan when Harry thrust into her one last time, before withdrawing. He wriggled into a comfortable position beside her, one arm behind her back, the other laying across her stomach. She sighed and snuggled closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, one of her hands interlocking with his on her stomach. Harry smiled, kissing her forehead.  
  
Nope, there were simply no words he could use to describe how he felt.  
  
"I love you, Sheila." Well, I guess those could work...  
  
"I love you too, Harry." She giggled when her stomach made a funny noise. "I'm hungry..." She let out an "Mmm..."  
  
"Not thinking about me naked again, are you?" He inquired, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"No... Just my favorite food."  
  
"Which would be...?"  
  
Sheila "Mmmm"ed again. "Lasagna."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
"My what?"  
  
"Shoe size." Sheila said, rolling her eyes. "Favorite food, silly."  
  
"Oh..." Harry thought for a moment, then grinned. "Chocolate-covered strawberries."   
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sheila's eyes focused and unfocused on the tiny particles of dust and dirt filtering (along with the pale morning light) into the queen size, four-poster bed though a crack in the heavy drapes, as she lightly ran her fingers up and down the arm that was wrapped around her waist.  
  
She knew it was still early, with what, the way the sunlight was still dull and the crickets melody was being joined, and eventually dying away to that of the songbird. She took a deep breath, rolling over as she did so, the bed sheets sliding smoothly over her bare skin, and her chocolate brown eyes fell upon the sleeping form beside her.  
  
Harry, who had been sleeping with his stomach to her back, gave a small snort against her shoulder and tightened his grip around her.  
  
Sheila sighed. Tip of her tongue between her teeth, she quickly, but silently, unfolded his arms from around her waist, scooting an inch, then another, away from him. Harry mumbled something incoherent, his arms falling away.   
  
Smiling to herself and thinking a good shower was the first priority on her To-Do List, she cunningly slid the rest of the way out of his bed. Harry stirred and she stiffened, as not to wake him, her amused eyes peering over the top of the crumpled blankets from her place on the floor.   
  
He opened and closed his mouth a few times and, letting out a small yawn, rolled onto his stomach, his arms wrapping around a soft pillow, his head caressing it almost lovingly as his breathing fell into the steady rhythm of sleep again.  
  
Smile still plastered on her face, Sheila reached over, grabbing a hold of his hand, and gave it a light peck before standing and heading for the Prefect bathroom, the heavy bed curtains fluttering noiselessly with her departure.   
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry awoke to what he thought was the sound of heavy rain. Letting out a small grunt, he sleepily rubbed his eyes, his other hand blindly searching his bedside table for his glasses. Finding them, he put them on, only to find that his bed was empty and the rain wasn't rain, but the shower running.  
  
He could hear someone softly singing "You Are My Sunshine" on the other side of the bathroom door, her voice muffled by the shower. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, his glasses going askew, and deeply inhaled, grinning when he found "it". "It", of course, being her smell.  
  
It was very faint, but he didn't care; the events of the previous night flooding into his mind. Harry grinned into the cotton pillowcase. Oh, yesss... *'Stop! STOP!'* He thought as he let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the pillow aside, and rolling over.   
  
He covered his face with his hands, only to let out another grunt. He could smell her there too, on his fingers. It was everywhere. Surrounding him. Engulfing him. Beckoning him to the world of ecstasy and slowly driving him crazy.  
  
"Stupid scent.... Stupid, evil, but oooh-sooo-gooood scent..."  
  
"Who you talking to, sweetie?"  
  
Harry jumped in surprise and looked toward the bathroom. Sheila was standing there, clad only in her bathrobe, the belt of it tied and hanging loosely from her small hips. She was towel-drying her hair, the last notes of "You Are My Sunshine" being softly hummed as she walked across the room, stopping in front of the room's full-length mirror.  
  
"What'd you say?" Harry asked, rubbing his temples, almost as if doing so would rid his memory of the "evil" scent.  
  
Sheila looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. "I asked you who were you talking to."   
  
Harry shook his head. "No one. Just myself."  
  
She gave him an inquiring look, but pushed the issue no further. Walking over to his dresser, she picked up a brush. "This yours?" Harry nodded, and Sheila proceeded to brush her long, black hair.  
  
Harry watched her with a childlike innocence, taking in her every move, every breath, until she turned to him with a "What?" and set the brush down.  
  
He, for what seemed like the billionth time, shook his head again. "Nothing..." He said, smirking.  
  
"Why are you smiling like that?"  
  
*'The scent... the evil scent...'* It must've been her body wash or something because Harry smelled it when she exited the bathroom. Now, it truly was engulfing him...  
  
"I love the way you smell."  
  
Sheila looked at him, her eyebrows raised. She held up a hand. "Whoa... Rewind. What?"  
  
"I love the way you smell. Is it your perfume or something?"  
  
She stared at him for a minute, then smiled. "Probably. What does it smell like?"  
  
*'Like utter and complete ecstasy...'* "Chocolate-covered strawberries."  
  
She furrowed her brows. "Well, I wear a strawberry smelling body spray, but I don't know about the chocolate... Wait..." She paused, finger tapping her chin in thought. "The way I smell... Is that like a turn-on for you...?"  
  
Harry shrugged, grinning. "Maybe..."  
  
Sheila ran a hand through her now tangle-free hair and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry scooted over to her, swinging his legs over the side, and took one of her hands in his own. Her head found its place on his shoulder. She gave an evil laugh.  
  
"I'll be right back..." She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a surprised and questioning look on his face. He could hear her rummaging around, apparently looking for something, and then what sounded like a tiny hiss.  
  
"What're you doing...?"  
  
She gave another evil laugh. "Nothing..." She returned, smile on her face, her hands fanning her neck, as if she were trying to cool herself off. "C'mere..."  
  
"What...?"  
  
"Gimme a hug."  
  
"Why?"  
  
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Because it's Christmas and I need to give you my Christmas hug, now c'mere."  
  
Harry hesitated, but got up from the bed, almost tripping over the mess of blankets on the floor, and stood in front of her. She held her arms open and he silently stepped into her warm embrace. It was immediately apparent why she had been laughing so maniacally because the smell was still fresh and strong.  
  
Harry groaned. "Oh, you cheater..."  
  
She looked innocently at him. "What?"  
  
"You sprayed it on purposely!"  
  
Sheila shrugged, grinning. "Maybe..." She said, mocking his previous actions.  
  
"Oh, that's it..." She let out a little yelp/giggle when he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He half threw her, half laid her down. "You, my darling, have been a very bad girl."  
  
"Oh, have I? Well, then I guess you should punish me, huh?"  
  
Harry smirked. "Definitely..."  
  
She took one of his hands in hers. "Well in that case, you might want to punish me for this too..." She placed his hand inside her bathrobe.  
  
Harry gasped. "You have been a very naughty girl... Not wearing underwear... Shame on you... I guess I WILL have to punish you for that..."  
  
Sheila sighed, her head falling back on the bed. "Oh, please do..."  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Harry, you can't tell anyone, not even Ron, that we've done anything."  
  
Harry looked at her from his sitting position on the bed. "Sheila, look at me." She turned towards him. "See this." He pointed to his mouth. "This smile is going to be really hard to cover up." Sheila stuck out her bottom lip. "It won't be easy. Ron knows me better than anyone else-" Sheila gave him the 'Puppy-dog eyes'. Harry sighed. "- but I'll try."  
  
Sheila nodded, hooking the last clasp on her heavy cloak, and pulled her hair back in a messy bun. She leaned back when Harry came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her forehead.  
  
"Happy Christmas."  
  
She smiled, turning and pecking him on the cheek. "Happy Christmas."  
  
Just then, the door to the bedroom burst open and Hermione and Ron came stumbling through.  
  
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!" They shouted.  
  
"Hey guys." Harry walked over to them, shaking Ron's hand and giving Hermione a hug. Sheila stood back, watching silently, but Hermione caught sight of her.  
  
"Sheila," Hermione said, walking over to her and grabbing her arm. "c'mon! Presents downstairs!"  
  
Sheila laughed as her giddy friend dragged her out of the room. "Okay." She turned towards Harry, who was watching them with mild amusement, and merely shrugged.  
  
Ron shook his head once they were out of sight. "That girl... I swear... You'd think she'd die if she wasn't the first one to open her presents..." Harry sniggered and Ron turned to look at him. "Why are you so quiet?" They stared at each other for a moment, before Harry blinked, breaking eye contact.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Wait... Something's different about you... I just can't seem to figure it out..." He grabbed Harry's chin and turned his head towards his own. "Look at me..." Harry lifted his eyes and saw Ron's staring intently into his. "Hmm... Hold on..." Ron's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh..." He let go of Harry's chin and took a step back, grinning.  
  
Harry was getting really annoyed. It was as if he were an animal on display and Ron wanted to be the first to poke his eye out or something. He shrugged.   
  
"What?"  
  
Ron poked him in the chest. "You son-of-a-bitch! You guys did it, didn't you?!"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Maybe."  
  
"Don't bullshit me, Harry. Did you or didn't you?"  
  
Harry sighed, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We did."  
  
Ron clapped his hands together. "I knew it!" He paused. "How many times?"  
  
Harry made an inaudible noise and Ron leaned closer to him, cupping his ear. "What was that?"  
  
Harry made the same noise and Ron leaned even closer. "Huh?"  
  
"NINE! WE DID IT NINE FUCKING TIMES, OKAY?!"  
  
Ron pulled away from him, smirking. "Oh... okay..." He paused. "Was it any good?"  
  
Harry gave him an incredulous look, the grin that was threatening to come out earlier finally surfacing when Ron started wiggling his eyebrows comically at him.  
  
"Aha! That's a yes!" Ron was bouncing on the balls of his feet now. "Details! I need details!"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Awww... C'mon!"  
  
"No! That's private." Ron gave him a look and Harry sighed, giving in. "Fine, but you can't tell Sheila." Ron nodded, and Harry slung an arm around his shoulders, steering him out of the room. "Tell me, have you ever had chocolate-covered strawberries...?" He asked, closing the door behind them.  
  
A/N: Ugh, that was a dumb ending! *shrug* Oh, well! Hope you enjoyed it! Please REVIEW! 


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